


Bridled Cage

by fowo, ThisisVenereVeritas



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Chastity Device, M/M, Master/Slave, Original Character(s), Religion Kink, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fowo/pseuds/fowo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisisVenereVeritas/pseuds/ThisisVenereVeritas
Summary: A young overseer and nobleman are caught between a struggle over power, truth, and a key to a cage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story with original characters, some of whom were created by me, others by my long-time friend and collaborator, Fowo.

It wasn’t usual for the Abbey to receive personal requests from wealthy families. Nobles were prideful, and often full of spite, and when left to their own accord, engaged in disgusting acts that would make the common criminal blush. Often, when a son or daughter was caught in a compromising act, rather than send the child in to be examined, the family patriarch would pay off their debts, or bribe the right man.

The letter sealed with blood red wax, bearing the Tennyson family crest, caused quite the stir within the brotherhood. Once word got around that one of the most powerful tradesman in Dunwall was requesting the Abbey’s services, every other knave and apprentice wanted in on the delicious details. It took threats of punishment from several Elders to silence the young men, and after nearly a week of deliberation, three overseers were selected for the job.

“Brother Steven, and Brother Josef,” Elder Sampson began. His naked, wrinkled hand gestured to two young men standing before them. Masks off, neither appeared older than twenty, and their pale complexions hardly evoked fear. However, though both were young in appearance, they harbored a fierce, almost inhuman stare that was common amongst Overseers trained in the militia.

Elder Sampson smiled thinly, then moved his hand towards the third Overseer standing by the wall. “It is with great confidence that we ask you to aid your brother, Overseer Hogarth Franklin, with a delicate matter. Normally, we refrain from employing warfare Overseers in duties that normally do not involve violence…however, we suspect that the victim may require, err, extra persuasion to be saved.”

Hogarth moved towards the center of the room. He bowed at his elders, then turned to the two young men. “I’m sure you already know the punishment for bruising a fair lady’s flesh? Though our patient is male, I must ask that you treat his body–no matter how poorly he treats it himself-as kindly as a woman’s. Do you understand? This isn’t some interrogation for witchcraft. Hold him down if you must, but the flesh must not be torn.”

“I take it some force will be required, then?” Josef inquired.

“I should hope not, but it is expected,” Hogarth replied stately. He turned to Steven, expecting further questions, but the young man remained staunch and silent. Hogarth continued, “I also require your word that everything taking place today will not be spoken out of term, nor shared between our brotherhood. Rumors, no matter how true, often change and manifest into lies.”

“I promise to not partake in any rumor spreading,” Josef said. “I am loyal to the Strictures. You have my word.”

“And mine,” Steven spoke up.

“Excellent,” Elder Sampson replied. “If that is the case, then you three are free to leave Holgar Square and begin work immediately. Steven, Josef; please gather your masks and belongings and meet Overseer Franklin at the entrance right away. Overseer Franklin…you know which tools to get, I presume?”

“Yes, I do,” Hogarth replied with a stiff nod. “And I’ll see to it to get copies of the key for the family.”

The Elders turned to one another. “That won’t be necessary,” one said. “No, no, we think it may be best that we don’t hand such a responsibility to Tennyson. After all, he is the one who asked for our help.”

Steven raised a brow. It was unlike his elders to be so…passive. And had he heard Overseer Franklin right? Keys?

A frightening sensation ran up Steven’s spine, but he dared not to let a single bit of his fear show as the men continued to deliberate on their upcoming patient’s fate.

“If it is permissible,” Josef suddenly spoke up. “May I ask what afflicts Tennyson?”

A great silence swept across the room. Immediately, Josef regretted asking. Steven was the opposite, and both eagerly and fearfully, anticipated the answer. After the elders shared a few comments with one another, one gave Overseer Franklin permission to share the details.

“It is not Lord Tennyson himself, but his son,” Hogarth answered. “His only heir to the Tennyson name suffers from sexual depravity of the worst kind.”

Both Josef and Steven paled. Steven, though he didn’t show it, felt a twist in his stomach as he awaited the horrible word to erupt from the Overseer’s lips.

“Sodomy,” he continued. The word struck several cords with Steven, and he lowered his head as if in mourning. “The man commits immoral acts with other men, and after multiple interventions, Lord Tennyson is seeking our help in curbing his son’s destructive appetite.”

The cage, Steven thought. The poor bastard would receive the dreaded cage.

* * *

Lord Tennyson’s estate was known for its enormous garden. A gift to his wife; exotic flowers, mostly imported from Serkonos’ archipelagos, decorated the estate’s ground and walls. It was said, during the right months, that people passing through the Estate District could identify the tangy, sweet aroma of Serkonan flowers, herbs and spices mixing and dancing in the winds. It was half past noon when they arrived, and the winds were in full force. Steven could detect the pollen through his mask, and was compelled to cover the few openings he had to protect himself against the intoxicating smell while Hogarth surveyed and judged the property before entering. Although they could not see the garden in its entirely, Hogarth made sure to mention its lavishness, and openly discouraged such a garden in a proper home.

As they circled the home, Steven’s mind continued to fixate on the small suitcase Hogarth had on him. The worn, leather-bound case was held together by a simple combination lock. As it swayed with each step, Steven noted of the subtle, heavy sounds taking place within, along with the more prominent, jangling sounds of small pieces of metal.

Keys, perhaps? Steven pondered, but refrained from delving too deep. It was dangerous to let the mind wander over things that were not in his control, especially those that posed a danger to his wellbeing. He reminded himself that what was to occur was a matter most delicate, and obsessing over it would only do him harm. He was here not as some observer, but as a necessity, to save a man from the Outsider’s dangerous influences.

He was better than this.

After completing their round about the territory, Hogarth lead them to the front gate. They were greeted by a servant, and lead straight into the waiting room, where Lord Tennyson stood. Unlike his famous garden, the man was cold and unwelcoming, as was the interior. In fact, were it not for the family portrait, the entirety of the room was a sharp and pale as the man standing before them. He was a tale, ghostly man with steel grey eyes and hair, and possessed a harsh stare that somehow saw through masks. Without saying a word, me made Steven nervous, almost guilty for being here.

“I had hoped you’d come sooner,” Tennyson commented. He made little effort to express his distaste. He pointed at the couch before taking a seat of his own. “Well, I suppose now is better than never.”

“My apologies, Lord Tennyson,” Hogarth said with a bow. “When we received your letter, it was of the utmost–”

“I’ve no time for excuses,” Tennyson said. Hogarth shot up, only to then submit into his seat. Steven and Josef followed, taking a seat across from Tennyson. The man sank into his armchair and closed his eyes. “I assume you three being here means you have a cure for the… impediment ailing my family’s wellbeing?”

Hogarth nodded. “I do,” he said almost eagerly. He gestured to Josef, who then handed him the suitcase. “In this case is a device used only in extreme cases of sexual deviancy.”

Lord Tennyson was unconvinced. “Does it work?”

“I can assure you, it does,” Hogarth answered. “It was devised by a High Oracle who specialized in institutional care. Our Sisterhood developed this most efficient devices for the betterment of men. In fact, we members of the Abbey have sometimes used it to boost productivity within our younger recruits!”

Steven began to sweat. Now he was more than convinced of what rested inside that suitcase, and he both praised and cursed the Outsider for afflicting Tennyson’s poor son with the depravity that lead to this moment. His eyes nervously darted to the family portrait, and locked with the empty stare belonging to the curly-haired boy settled between his mother and father.

To think a child would grow up, and be faced with the cage…

Steven looked away, back at Lord Tennyson. He remained unconvinced, and his icy expression seemed all the more colder.

Hogarth chuckled under his mask. “Perhaps it is best I show you what lies within.”

Steven’s heart raced as Hogarth began to fiddle with the lock. As soon as he heard the lock click, he made an effort to turn his head ever so slightly so that he could catch a glimpse of those ghastly, little curved cages aligned inside of the suitcase before Hogarth turned the open case around to show the contents to Lord Tennyson.

The man’s reaction was, to say the least, satisfactory. The three watched the man’s narrow eyes break, widening as he understood the method of punishment being offered. For a long time, he was silent, taking in the sight. Steven counted each second, awaiting the father’s response.

Finally, he spoke. “You intend to put this on my son?”

“Yes.”

The man’s eyes broke from the suitcase, to Hogarth. “For how long?”

“As long as it may take, Lord Tennyson,” Hogarth answered most dutifully. He clasped his gloved hands together. “Once fitted,They can be worn for as long as a week without wearing the skin, though we recommend daily oil application to keep rashes at bay. Such applications can be done by the patient himself without…risk of any stirring occurring. And, of course, he should be able to relieve himself of waste without any issue. And bathing won’t be a problem, as it is made of copper.”

“You don’t say,” Tennyson remarked. A faint, but noticeable smile began to form at the edges of his thin, white lips.

Hogarth nodded in return. “Now, there is the issue of handling your son.”

“That won’t be an issue,” Tennyson replied, smile instantly fading. “Last night, he went against my orders, and he and his friends drank themselves into a stupor. My wife is upstairs looking after him right now.” He breathed heavily through his nose. “That said, should he have some fight in him…I’d be willing to look the other way if some aggression is necessary.”

“If that is what you think is best. Still, I’ll need you to sign this.” Hogarth turned the suitcase to face him, then pull from the top, a contract for Lord Tennyson to sign. As he handed to the man, Steven’s eyes laid on the three bridled cages resting across the interior. Each of a different size, ranging from small to moderate, one was sure to guarantee forced chastity to Tennyson’s son.

“So, shall we get on with it?” Tennyson said once he handed the contract to Hogarth. He stood up from his seat and, without gesturing to the three Overseers, headed in the direction of the hallway leading to the stairs. “I’ve a meeting later and would rather not have to linger here much longer.”

“Yes, yes,” Hogarth said, quickly following suit. “You’ll want Lady Tennyson to leave the room.”

Lord Tennyson lead the three to the main hallway, then, without giving a word, up a flight of stairs. Hogarth made a point to explain the details of the cage, what behaviors to expect within the upcoming days, as well as visits to the household–to keep track of the young man’s progress. Though Steven already knew what to expect, he was attentive to Hogarth’s every word, lapping it up and imagining each torturous moment locked up.

They reached the third floor, with the only sound being Hogarth’s words bouncing off the cold, empty halls. Lord Tennyson stopped at a door. “This is the room,” he said. “I’ll have a word with my wife before leaving you three to your work.”

“Excellent,” Hogarth said.

“And you’re sure I cannot have access to a key?” Lord Tennyson asked.

Hogarth turned to Josef and Steven, then back to Lord Tennyson, and said, “The Elders suggested against it, but should you write another letter requesting it…”

The older man brought two fingers to his temple and sighed. “More time wasted. Whatever. I’ll see to it that I’m not around to hear his complaints.” He knocked on the door. “Giuseppina,” he said as he opened the door.

Inside the room, sitting by the bed, was an older, but handsome Serkonan woman; her thick, curly hair tied in a loose bun, and dress slightly wrinkled from hours of fussing over her ill son. Despite her weary appearance, she held an air of authority and respect, and when she turned to face her husband and the three overseers, Steven was hit with embarrassment for harboring his inappropriate thoughts.

But her concern could not stop Steven from glancing at the figure lying on the bed. A young, tanned man whose looks heavily resembled his mother’s, still dressed in yesterday’s clothing. His outfit was wrinkled, face oily from a long night of debauchery, and his hair let loose and wild. Yet, despite his initial appearance, Steven was consumed in his natural beauty. As the mother left her seat to greet the overseers, Steven was consumed with turmoil over the love for the tired mother, and the untamed beauty of the man she fretted over.

“These men are here for Daniel?” she asked with noticeable caution.

Right after she asked, her son raised his head. His eyes rested on the overseers. A faint smirk rested on his face. “You’ve gone to the Abbey for help? Not a doctor? And you think I’m the one who’s out of his mind?”

Unmoved, Tennyson turned to the young man resting on the bed, and said, “You’ve finally done it. It’s come to me embarrassing myself in front of strangers. Well, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve signed away your rights.”

“As if I had any to begin with,” Daniel replied. “Mother, are you really going to let the Abbey harm me?”

Lord Tennyson took his wife by the wrist and pulled her from the room. “Ignore that ungrateful fool. I’ve seen what they intend to do to you. They’ll fix you right up. Giuseppina, come with me. Leave these men to do their job.”

“I can assure you, young man,” Hogarth began with a snap, “such insolence will not be tolerated. We members of the Abbey of the Everyman will do whatever it takes for cease your disgusting nature!” He turned Lord and Lady Tennyson. “I must ask that you two leave, or, at the very least, the lady occupy another room.”

The three waited for the door to shut behind them, then Josef locked the door. Hogarth took the nearest table and placed the suitcase on top of it.

Daniel’s eyes laid upon Steven. His pale, handsome face contorted into a sneer.

“Brothers, if you could restrain our young lord by the wrists and legs,” Hogarth announced.

Like magic, Daniel’s expression changed. The hatred on his face disappeared, and was replaced with that of intense fear. Josef grabbed Daniel by the wrists, and after some wrangling, managed to bring them behind the young lord’s back. As they struggled for dominance, Steven took Daniel by the legs. It became clear why he and Josef were employed for this task, as it proved difficult to keep the young man’s legs bound. Daniel kicked and flailed, hitting Steven’s mask several times before he successfully fixed him into place. By the time Daniel gave in, all three were breathing heavily.

“Going to torture me, are you?” Daniel heaved between breaths. “I should have known with those two warfare overseers…let go of me!”

Hearing the man’s pleas brought a strange rise of satisfaction within Steven. His heart beat with rejuvenated energy, so much so that he fought the urge to make eye contact with the frightened, desperate man out of fear that it might cause some deeper stirrings.

“I swear by the marker on my mask, my brothers will not harm you,” Hogarth replied. He opened the suitcase and began fiddling with its content. Steven was sure he could make out the sound of leather coming into contact with the copper. “No, after reading your father’s letter, we’ve decided the correct punishment for you.”

“Punishment? For what? Did my father accuse me of black magic? No, I thought not!” Daniel heaved out more before using the remains of his energy to pull and tug at the two overseers holding him down. “Let go of me, dammit.”

Hogarth turned around, and Steven could see that there was something held in his hand. “You wretched thing!” he announced, making his way to the bed. “You know what sick acts you commit with men behind closed doors. Such filthy acts could only be a result of the Outsider’s influence!” Once he reached the bedside, he opened his hand, revealing the cage to Daniel. “Once you’ve been properly sheathed though, I expect your attitude will change.”

Daniel stared at the device, his eyes going over its peculiar, but familiar shape, and the moment he understood what it was, and what his fate would be, gasped in in terror. “What the fuck is that?” he wailed. He wriggled in place, summoning what strength he could to try and free himself from his tormentors, but it was hopeless. If anything, his struggles excited Steven, and he devoted all his strength to holding the poor man in place. After giving his all, Daniel broke down. “Unhand me! Mom, mom!”

“I’m sorry, but understand this is in your best interest,” Hogarth said. The cruelty in his voice vanished, now replaced with pity. “Once you’ve been freed of this dangerous, earthly pleasure, you can devote your time to the Strictures, and free your mind from the Outsider’s hold.”

“Fuck you!” Daniel spat at Hogarth, just missing his mask.

“Such insolence.” Hogarth cast the cage aside, turning his attention to his patient’s buttons. Steven watched in anticipation as Hogarth went down the line of buttons holding the young man’s pants. Which each unbuttoning came a series of swears and cries from their unruly patient, and as Hogarth became closer to finishing, these wails grew louder and more desperate, and Steven more impatient. When he was finished, Hogarth make quick work and slipped his gloved hand into the man’s pants, earning a sharp yelp from the young lord, followed by a series of terrible names. It was around this time Steven found himself trying to catch of glimpse of Daniel’s manhood. No matter how hard he reminded himself, the thought of seeing it, if only for a moment, fascinated him.

No, no, he told himself. Don’t let those thoughts penetrate you. You’re better than–than him.

At that moment, his eyes rested on the pinned man fighting for his freedom. Daniel Tennyson cried and shook his hips, trying whatever he could to free his member from Hogarth. By this point, Hogarth had the cage in another hand, and was struggling to sheath the patient with it. Of course, Steven could not avoid catching a glimpse of the young man’s penis, semi-erect due to a combination of fear and unwarranted friction.

“You!” Daniel cried out. Startled, Steven broke from his concentration to have his eyes meet with the young man. “You’re not really going to let this happen, are you?” he pleaded. “I’ll pay you twice what my father offered!”

Before Steven could think to respond, Hogarth laughed. “Your money's no good,” Hogarth announced. “And bribing will not change your fate.” He then squeezed the base of the man’s penis, earning a hiss from Daniel as his organ shrank from the pain. Both hands and cage then captured the organ, entrapping it with lock and cool copper. Daniel shook from the contact. His legs jerked under Steven’s grip, and he almost tore free, but Steven would not let him. His arms held tightly around the man’s legs so that he could watch Hogarth finish putting everything together. Whatever concern he had before was gone, and Steven lavished over every detail and sound taking place before him. Hogarth’s hands worked wonderfully attaching the lock to the rest of the cage. Before he could relish in hearing the small lock click, his hands obscured both genitals and cage. It did little to stop Steven from enjoying himself, and his eyes quickly darted to Daniel, whose face had turned a deep red from humiliation and pain from the sudden constraint forced around him.

Satisfied, Hogarth stepped away from the bedside. “You may release him,” he said to Steven and Josef.

Both overseers released their grip from the man. Josef turned away from Daniel the second he relinquished his grasp, but Steven took a few seconds before awarding the man some privacy. But after Josef and Steven left the beside, Daniel remained situated on the bed. His arms sank to his sides, and his legs quivered in place. His blank eyes stared at the ceiling, and his hands began to shake as they lifted to cover himself, only to flinch and recoil as soon as they connected with the copper lining.

“You sick fucks,” Daniel cried out. He turned on his side, falling to a fetal like position. He raised his head at Steven–at the three of them, and scowled. With reddened eyes, he snapped: “I bet you’re all getting off this, aren’t you?”

Steven was thankful of his mask, because only then did he notice how hot he was, how terribly sweaty and aroused he’d become, and how he wanted nothing more than to watch the young man squirm about more.

“Watch your tongue,” Hogarth returned. “Though the Abbey has promised to not punish you for your acts, it can very well be overturned–should I decide you unfit for this mode of treatment.”

“Treatment?” Daniel hissed out. His hands cupped his caged member.

“Yes,” Hogarth said, taking the key to the lock, and returning it into one of the suitcase’s sleeves. “I’ll continue to see you every three days to record your progress. And before you think about faking it, know that you’ll be wearing this for at least a few weeks. And don’t think about visiting a locksmith.” Hogarth continued, snapping the suitcase shut. Both Daniel and Steven flinched at the sound. “I doubt you will, but even if you manage to face the humiliation, know that no man would be willing to risk his career to remove it.”

Defeated, Daniel retreated into his sheets, saying nothing more on the matter. It was a shame on many accounts. At least, it was to Steven. Though he felt bad for the young man’s predicament, he still longed to see the man struggle, beg for release. Hogarth didn’t give him any time to dwell on the matter. Shortly after Daniel’s submission, he called both Josef and Steven to attention, and then ordered that they leave the room to meet with Lord Tennyson.

“How is my boy?” Lady Tennyson asked as soon as she caught the men reentering the lounge room.

“He is upset, but that is to be expected,” Hogarth began. He turned to Lord Tennyson. “If I may, I need to ask what time is most convenient for my return?”

As the two chatted, Steven remained poised, standing still and appearing to the fair Lady and servant, a loyal and courteous member of the Abbey.

But behind the mask was a mind seeping with depraved thoughts.

Just as Hogarth was about to have his final words with the Tennysons, Josef piped up, asking if he could use the washroom. Holding the young master down left him fatigued. Steven took this opportunity to go along with him. The second Josef finished cleaning himself up, Steven went inside, locking the door behind him. Safe behind closed doors, he removed his mask, the cloth covering the remaining parts of his head. He splashed water over his heated face, and ran a hand through his short, wet hair, letting some cool air run through it before staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His face was red. Hot from arousal and embarrassment from such. And oh, how weary he appeared. But as awful as he looked, it was his eyes that sickened him most. Those eyes of his. He could see Daniel Tennyson in them, curled like a babe, his hands clawing pathetically at the cage covering his member. Those round, soft lips turned downwards into a scowl. Hands clenched around a trapped organ that craved so much attention.

His pupils dilated, hungry for more.


	2. Chapter 2

Like most young, unmarried members of the Abbey, Steven took residence in Holger Square, in the barracks with the other warfare overseers. His age and low rank meant no privacy, and he shared his sleeping and leisure hours with about twenty other men. This lack of privacy ensured that no man could engage in any inappropriate behavior–at least not while anyone was awake.

Tonight was particularly bad. After completing his task at the Tennyson estate, he and the others returned to meet with the elders and write a report of their outings. Each word cursed him with an image of the cage, of the wails and pleas from Tennyson’s son. To make matters worse, after submitting his report, the elders concluded that, until further notice, Hogarth would make the trips to the estate on his own. There was no urgency to remove the cage, so bringing two additional overseers, whose time could be better spent on the streets, was deemed unnecessary.

Steven returned to his cot, hoping for a moment to relax and meditate, only to be welcomed by the loud, jovial sounds of his brothers’ merrymaking. He could do nothing but lay in his bed, his back to the others, waiting for his personal torment to end. A product of years of strict regime and training, he was careful not let any private urges show amongst his brothers. It was bad enough his body was so…weak, worse that it often fell victim to the Outsider’s influence. At first, Steven thought it to be a fault of his flesh. It was after years of teachings from his elders, did Steven suspect it might be something deeper. An affliction of some kind. A sickness gifted to him by the Outsider–for reasons Steven could not entirely explain. It was a curse that tormented him as far as he could recall.

The night proved long. He remained awake well past curfew, staring at the ceiling, his naked hands longing to cease the flickering cinders that burned deep within him. Each time he came close to satisfying himself, he stopped, recalled the Strictures, and the flame would cease, only for his mind to reignite it with a memory of the event. A shiver would strike him like a match, and the warm glow burned deep inside his abdomen, beckoning an erection to awaken. Steven didn’t know when exhaustion finally gave way, but he did eventually fall asleep.

His day began early, before sunrise. Although refreshed, his body still hungered. It remained after completing his morning exercise and chores, and breakfast.

With little else to do, Steven requested to spend an hour in contemplation before setting off in the streets.

There were many rooms dedicated to prayer and meditation. There was a time where many visitors would come during the day and kneels before the Strictures. They’d succumb to the intoxicating fumes designed to strengthen the spirit, and they’d rock in contemplation as overseers took charge of their wellbeing. These days, it was unusual to see overseers and civilians together in such rooms. With a larger portion of the Abbey dedicated to warfare, and less to the astrological arts, the once filled rooms were now depressing hollow. Today was no different. Save for a few candles, the small antechamber he entered was dark, with just one other overseer reciting the Fourth.

Steven kneeled before the Seventh. It was the one he was most drawn to. No man had a mind that was truly without fault, but Steven considered his worse than most. Like that Tennyson boy, his was corrupted with unnatural thoughts. And it was these thoughts that provoked him into submitting himself to the dry heat of the room. He inhaled the strong-smelling incense, letting the smoke fill and burn his lungs until it made him dizzy.

Steven recited the Seventh. He closed his eyes and saw Tennyson’s son, begging to be freed. Fear engulfed him, and he impatiently rocked in place. How was it that even now, the Outsider had a hold on him? Were there no good spirits wandering the Cosmos? Just as he finished, the hand of his brother rested on his shoulder. It calmed him down.

Perhaps it is best I ask for help myself, he pondered. The very thought filled him with dread. It wouldn’t be the first time an overseer requested help for such a matter, but, much like the Tennyson, it was treated with the most extreme effect, but far more severe for men who donned the mask. Steven convinced himself it was better to remain silent. He was stronger than Daniel. Unlike the nobleman, he could resist temptation. It mattered little if he hungered for flesh, as long as Steven was aware, and actively refrained from it, he would be safe.

He continued to think upon yesterday’s events, through a new light. The pleasure he garnered before dwindled, along with the memory. He reminded himself he would not see the man again. There was no reason for Hogarth to employ his services. If he was asked to, Steven would come up with a reason to avoid it.

After an hour had passed, Steven left the room. He washed his face, letting the cool water and fresh air clear his tired mind before putting the mask back on. 

He checked his equipment, and was ready to leave for his station, when he heard a commotion taking place in the lobby. Some overseers and civilians were gathered around, encircling an argument between a man and two elder members.

“Sir, if you just give us a moment,” someone said as politely as they could. “We’ll know in a few minutes if someone is available.”

Steven knew better than to listen in. If anything, he was shocked that so many other overseers were there to partake in whatever drama was occurring. Steven pushed through the crowd, intent on leaving without drawing any additional attention, when he heard the man cry out:

“I do not like wasting my time!”

That voice he recognized right away… It stopped Steven from taking another step. He stood, trapped where he was, in the main lobby, struggling to decide whether he should turn around to see who it was who said those words. Oh, but he already knew. He had just heard that same voice crying in his mind. Sweet, sweet Daniel. To think, he had just sworn to himself he’d avoid visiting the young man again.

And now he was just feet away.

“Yes, of course,” one of his brothers replied. Steven turned around, trying to catch a glimpse of who was involved. With masks on, it was impossible to tell right away who was dealing with the young man. “But,”said man continued, “many of our vice overseers are quite busy. If you’d like, we can direct you to a waiting room.”

“I did not come all the way over here to wait,” Daniel remarked. He stood proudly among the crowd, his manners and dress matching his vain, but mighty attitude. The sickly look he had before was gone. His warm, curly locks were pressed down, face fresh and clean. In every account, he appeared prim and proper, and nearly every overseer in the room fretted over how to deal with such a loud, handsome man...save for Steven. No, Steven was quite sure he was the only one in the entire room that knew Tennyson’s secret.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

An overseer pointed at Daniel. “The man showed up a few minutes ago, demanding to speak with a Vice Overseer regarding maltreatment. Apparently, Overseer Hogarth Franklin has done wrong by him…”

“And Overseer Franklin is on duty, elsewhere,” another overseer interrupted. “How on earth is he going to defend himself…”

“You don’t think he’ll get Hogarth suspended?” 

“I should hope not,” someone else replied.

Steven felt his stomach twist in a knot. So, this is what the young lord intended to do; have Hogarth punished when he was at his most susceptible? It didn’t surprise Steven that the young man would try to free himself, though he was shocked at how quickly the man acted. Of course, any reasonable Vice Overseer would look into the man’s complaint and see things did not add up. Hogarth’s report–Steven’s own report–would attest to that. And even if Daniel contested it, what then? A legal battle would ensue…one no man with such an unspeakable affliction would be willing to face.

A cruel smile spread across Steven’s hidden face. Daniel Tennyson was smart in trying to take the quickest, if not most practical route to free his member; but in doing so, failed to consider the long-term consequences.

But then another thought erupted within him. What now? Steven tore away from staring at the young lord, trying to think. Surely, what was going on right now had little to do with him? Tennyson didn’t request to see him, but rather Hogarth and a vice overseer. There was no reason for Steven to stand and watch this chaos unfold. Why fuel a dangerous fire? He just finished promising himself he’d stay away from the flame. 

Through the commotion, another overseer hurried to the one who was in the middle of trying to appease the young lord. He whispered something to him. Whatever it was, caused the other to groan, and for Steven to, once again, reconsider.

“I apologize,” the man announced. “It appears Vice Overseer Hanson is in a meeting, and cannot speak with you directly for another hour. However, we have a few elders who are in the middle of signing documents. Perhaps we can have one of them speak to you regarding the matter?”

Daniel sneered. “And how long would that take?”

“We’ll send someone right away,” the overseer answered. He nudged the overseer next to him, signaling the poor fellow to hurry and seek out an elder. He returned to the young lord, and chuckled. “Until then, might I have someone send you to an office? We can have you write out your grievances in paper?”

The young man’s eyes narrowed. “Paper?”

He was nervous, and Steven could tell. It was at that moment, Steven lost himself, and pushed through the crowd to better make himself known. 

“Sir, if I may?” Steven announced. He raised his hand, catching the attention of both the overseer and the young lord.

“And who are you?” his brother asked. 

“Overseer Baker,” Steven said. He saw that the overseer standing before him was older, and politely bowed. His throat tightened when he raised his head, and saw Daniel fixated on him. “Though the young lord does not recognize me, I accompanied Overseer Hogarth Franklin to this young man’s estate yesterday.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, and…due to the delicate nature of this issue,” Steven began, and he noticed how the word irked young Tennyson. “I think it would be best I take this man to a room and have him fill the grievance and, should it come to it, to give my side of the incident.”

“Hmm.” His superior gave a short nob before turning to the young nobleman. “Do you care to wait in a room?” he asked, unaware of how uncomfortable Daniel Tennyson had become since Steven announced himself. “It will only be a few minutes longer, I swear. Mr. Tennyson?”

“Oh?” Daniel muttered. His eyes were locked on Steven. “Fine. I suppose I have no choice now, do I?”

“Overseer Baker will lead you to a room, and hand you the correct papers you’ll need.” The overseer grabbed Steven by the shoulder and pulled him close. “Keep an eye on this one,” he whispered to Steven. “We cannot risk any more backlash from upper society. Give him his papers, serve him tea, do whatever it takes to keep his mouth shut until we can service him.”

A hot shiver raced up Steven’s back, and he replied with a shaky nod before leading Daniel out of the main lobby.

Steven only realized what a terrible idea it was once he closed the office door belonging to Elder Overseer Sampson. The office was cramped and small, and with a working fireplace that made the stuffy room too warm for comfort. The Seven Strictures emblazoned on the wall brought Steven to his senses, reminded him of his meager place, and filled him with regret for having taken upon himself to entrap himself with the young lord.

Said young man stood, impatient, and now visibly nervous, in the middle of the room. Daniel’s arms were crossed, eyes locked on Steven like a predator stalking its prey–but Steven knew better. Behind that intense stare was a man contemplating his next move. Daniel Tennyson was no doubt regretting coming here, after hearing he’d have to write out the exact reason of his complaint. Now that Steven had made himself known, it was also now a matter of his word against a fellow member of the Abbey. The very thought riled Steven, but at the same time, he was sick to his stomach.

“One moment,” Steven said with his head lower than usual. He could not tell if he sounded as nervous as Daniel looked. “I’ll fetch you those papers. There should be a copy somewhere in these cabinets.”

“Am I to fill out these papers and…what, wait some more?” Daniel asked. “With you?”

It was a very standard, safe question, but it startled Steven nonetheless. He continued to keep himself busy as he searched through the cabinets, looking for the right file for the young lord.

“The papers are for us,” Steven managed to say with some falsified confidence. “Depending on the issues you have with Overseer Franklin, your troubles may be resolved as quickly as a few hours, to as long as months.”

“Months?”

“Should this be brought to court, yes.” Steven pulled out the paperwork. It was hot under his mask, and he fought to control his racing heartbeat before facing the young man. “It can take quite a while to have it resolved.”

He closed the cabinet, and took a deep breath before facing Daniel. The man was right where Steven left him. Still standing there, still looking upset. If anything, the papers Steven now held made Daniel more distressed.

Yes, Steven thought, please leave. He wanted Daniel to leave, to realize that coming here was a mistake. He walked over to Daniel, and offered the paper. Daniel seemed hesitant to take it.

Please leave, Steven continued to think as Daniel contemplated his next move. Steven wanted nothing more than for Dan to pull away. To regret this decision.

Dan looked up at Steven, wary. “Were you really one of the overseers sent by my father?” he asked.

Steven swallowed. The cloth around his neck felt increasingly restrictive. “I was,” he said, and without thinking, he added, “I held you down by your legs.”

Dan’s eyes widened. “So you are…”

It came out no more than a whisper, but it frightened Steven nonetheless. He stiffened as Daniel’s eyes sharpened, the fear dissipating and replaced with pure, concentrated rage. He snatched the paper, much to Steven’s despair.

Daniel quickly surveyed the form. His mouth formed that familiar, haughty scowl. “It must have felt good, to watch me suffer so. To humiliate me. Treat me no better than a stray animal.” His rage-filled eyes snapped back to Steven.

“I assure, it wasn’t,” Steven lied.

Daniel scoffed. “Oh, but it was. Why else would you partake in it?”

“It was my job,” Steven replied too hastily.

“Ha, but was it your job to hold me so tightly?” Daniel asked. “You held me with such vigor–in the poor, weakened state I was in. There was no need. I begged. I cried. The very least you could have done was show a bit a mercy.”

“You were struggling,” Steven replied. Daniel let out a sarcastic laugh. Ashamed, Steven lowered his head, and could hear Daniel pace about the room. Steven’s cheeks prickled. His discomfort spread across the entirety of his being.

And yet…still, the image hung. Right as Daniel uttered it, those lovely images of the young man being held down in his own bed, and forced to wear the cage, were depicted vividly across Steven’s mind.

“So he lowers his head in shame,” Daniel muttered. “But does he actually mean it?”

Steven could hear Daniel pace wildly about the room. He didn’t care. He was far too concentrated on his own being. The strange mixture of shame and arousal filling his gut. He knew the young man was only yelling to get a reaction. In any normal situation, Steven would walk away, or threaten the man with his sword. His title as a Warfare Overseer alone would scare away most fools. This was so different. He couldn’t fight back, and those empty words Daniel spouted carried so much meaning to Steven.

“If you’ve any humanity left within you, you’d put yourself in my shoes,” Daniel’s voice rang within Steven’s mind. “You’d think about how I feel…how any man would feel.”

No, no, no, no! Steven clenched his hands tight into painful fists. The last thing he needed was to think anymore of it!

“I-I need you to fill out the sheet,” Steven said. He kept his head lowered, his eyes away from Daniel. He refused to acknowledge him as he rushed back to the cabinet. What for? Daniel already had a copy of his own. Was it to merely get away? If that were the case, should he not have suggested getting tea or snacks?

“Listen to me,” Daniel said. The anger in his voice was prominent, but lacked its gusto. Steven realized it sounded dangerously close to a plea. “Please. We both know they’ll look it over, and just toss it aside. I…I need your help.” 

The words stuck to Steven’s skin. So many horrendous thoughts broke through the already muddled canvas of his mind. They stopped his shaking hand from pulling the cabinets handle. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to hear the noble beg for his help. Steven couldn’t give him a damn thing, but he desired nothing more than to have Daniel beg and plea to be released. It was a strange fantasy, a sin no overseer should harbor. He needed to leave this office. Yes, that was it. Sweat accumulated under Steven’s mask as he struggled over his actions. He’d politely ask himself out. Maybe get something to drink. He’d take his time, too, so that maybe, once he returned, another overseer would already be tending to Daniel. Yes. That could work. He’d do that.

But at some point, during his planning, Daniel must have snuck up on him, because no sooner had Steven thought out his plan, did a hand grab his shoulder. The sudden touch startled him, and in the midst of his shame, Steven reached for his mask. He pressed his hand firmly over it, protecting his identity as he backed from Daniel. He bumped into the cabinet, causing loose parchment and paper to fall from the top, and scatter.

When the final sheet finally rested on the floor, Steven looked up at the mess he made, and at the young man staring at him with new clarity. His eyes were open, not simply from surprise, but also with recognition that the overseer he was with harbored a secret.

“Oh my,” Daniel remarked softly. A noticeable smirk formed at the ends of his mouth.

“It was slipping,” Steven remarked as he straightened himself out. But he already knew the damage had been done. Dan continued to look at him with amusement.

“Of course it was…” The young man remarked. His voice carried that recognizable cockiness associated with his kind. “No wonder you stuttered before.”

Steven quickly moved on the defense. “You think the things you said before were right because I stumbled?” he asked.

Daniel scoffed. “I never said I was right now, did I?”

Steven sucked in a sharp breath. Trapped between a cabinet and a arrogant nobleman. He needed to think of a way out. 

“Y-Your mind games won’t work on me,” Steven remarked. His eyes darted about the room, like a frantic animal, but ultimately, they returned to the young man standing in front of him. What could he do or say to save himself. His mind went straight to the cage hidden underneath the nobleman’s trousers, but he knew such an attack would only prove the man right.

“You’re stuttering again,” Daniel mocked. Steven shrank against the cabinet. Daniel took the opportunity to step forward, until he was mere inches away from Steven. The man was younger, shorter than him…and yet Steven was nothing compared to him. “Tell me,” Daniel asked. Steven could feel the warmth from his breath reach his neck. “Are all Overseers this demented, or are you the exception?” 

The question provoked Steven, and he could tell Daniel knew it. With the remains of his strength, Steven pushed the man away. Daniel tumbled back, slipping over the fallen sheets of paper. He fell, and curled on his side, groaning pathetically. Before Steven could think about what he had done, the door opened. Three additional overseers, one of whom was Elder Overseer Sampson, saw the young nobleman stumbling back, and Steven caught in the act of assault.

“Young man! Cease and desist,” Elder Sampson demanded.

Steven froze. In an instant he lost all sense of the spoken word. His heart sank as the two overseers accompanying the elder rushed to help the fallen man. Elder Sampson rushed over and grabbed Steven roughly by his shoulder, pushing him back into the cabinet. Steven had little time to react to it, and only winced when he felt the cool metal hit his back. Elder Sampson raised his hand, and Steven shut his eyes, preparing himself for the punishment that was to come. But when he didn’t feel the hot strike of a hand, he opened them, and found his Elder standing above him, looking more disappointed than angered.

“Sir,” he said. He heard how pathetic he sounded, and stopped himself from saying anything more.

“Return to your barracks,” Sampson said. He wiped the sweat from his naked scalp. “Return to your barracks, and wait. Reflect and prepare yourself for whatever consequence I and your direct superior choose.”

“Y-yes sir,” Steven said. Admonished, he kept his head lowered as he cautiously navigated through the messy office. Though he tried his best to keep his eyes from anyone, they somehow found Daniel between the two overseers. He was fixing his hair, which had come partially undone. Like magic, the man detected Steven’s gaze, and his eyes met with Steven’s. A sly, victorious smirk spread across his face, causing Steven to fill with both rage and self-pity.

He left the office, sulking privately as he could. The walk from the office to the barracks was long and emotionally arduous. Steven convinced himself everyone knew the terrible sins he committed, and felt as though behind each mask was another set of eyes watching and mocking him.

The rest of the day proved to be agonizingly long. With his fate left unknown, Steven could barely hold the urge to cry over his state. He knew he had done wrong. From the very moment he spoke up, he submitted himself to selfish desires. And now he was to suffer for it. If him pushing a guest of the Abbey wasn’t bad enough! He was sure Daniel Tennyson would slander his name, accuse him of the same perversion he was afflicted with. 

No, it was not the same! It was...

But Steven could not bring himself to find an excuse. His behavior had proved that he was unfit for his position, and he was sure both his superior and Elder Sampson would agree to that. He shuddered to think what punishment would await him. His group was led by Veteran Overseer McLarty, a fierce man accustomed to teaching the fine art of torture. Once McLarty learned of his transgressions, it would mean the end of him. He’d be beaten, whipped, perhaps even kicked out when it was all over. Otherwise, his superior would do whatever it might take to repress those urges, no matter how painful. He had heard of such tortures, but never experienced them firsthand.

To think he might bear witness, not as surveyor, but as the transgressor in need of such saving, frightened him to an indescribable degree. 

With his panic on the rise, and with little else to do, Steven could only sit helplessly and watch the sun slowly begin the set, his dark and unknown fate creeping forth as the light of the room began to fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite pleased by the comments. It's always great to hear that people are enjoying the work I am producing. I normally reply back right away, but real life has me busy. But thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts. 
> 
> In other news, Fowo drew artwork for this story. I'll submit a link to their twitter, where you can admire it, and maybe share a tweet with them. 
> 
> https://twitter.com/fowo__/status/1068865950492094464


	3. Chapter 3

Steven sat at his cot for several hours, never speaking a word and deliberating over the course of his actions, when he received a message from a brother informing him that he was to go without supper, and that after meals hours were over, was to report back to Sampson’s office. Until then, he was to remain alone and not speak to anyone regarding the matter. He said nothing else, and left Steven to continue sulking on his mistakes.

When the time for the meeting finally arrived, it was none other than McLarty himself that approached Steven. Like most high ranking overseers, Veteran Overseer McLarty was a busy man. Though technically an Elder in respect to age and rank, his status as a Warfare Overseer meant most of his time was spent outside of an office, commanding recruits and younger overseers. The old man took one look at him and shook his head. After giving Steven a few set of orders, McLarty went completely, and very uncharacteristically, silent. The walk to the meeting room was indescribable. Steven was terrified, and wished nothing more than for his superior to give some hint as to what awaited him.

It was a standard meeting room, capable of holding a hundred of overseers if needed. For tonight, the room was mostly empty, save a few faces. At the very end of the room, was a long table, and at the table sat two Elder Overseers, Sampson and Brandt. There was a third, empty seat. Steven guessed it was for McLarty. At the center, just a few feet from the Elders, was Steven’s chair. What caught Steven off guard, however, was Hogarth sitting next to a masked overseer who oversaw the recording of the trial, and was helping him prepare an audiograph. While it wasn’t unusual to have observers during a trial, Hogarth’s presence alerted Steven something else was amiss.

“Ah, just in time,” Sampson said, acknowledging the two. He opened a folder and turned to Brandt. “Let us begin then. We’ve a lot to discuss tonight.”

Elder Brandt stretched his hand out, to Steven. “Take off your mask, son,” he said, then turned his attention to McLarty. “Jasper, will you take your seat alongside us?”

“If it’s fine with you, I think I’ll stand behind the boy,” McLarty replied. He pointed to the chair, signaling him to take his seat. “I wish to accept his punishment alongside him.”

Sampson raised a brow. “Are you aware of what occurred today?”

Without his mask to protect him, Steven’s blush was visible to all. He lowered his head, hoping the elders didn’t notice. He was confident that Hogarth did, and was absorbing every detail of this trail.

McLarty dragged a hand across his forehead. “To some extent, yes,” he admitted. “I don’t know all the details: I had little time to read the reports. And for that, I apologize. To be fair, I will stand alongside him.”

“That’s…rather kind of you, Jasper,” Sampson remarked, still bearing the look of confusion.

“It is,” McLarty replied, moving behind Steven’s chair. He rested his hands on the chair, letting the worn leather gloves rub against it. “But, you know me. I hear one of my men failed to meet my expectations, I lash out most cruelly. I fear if I was at the table along with you two, I might decide to tack on an additional punishment or two…”

Both elders shared a side glance before giving their comrade a pass. “Perhaps it is for the best then.”

“Well, let’s get this trial started then,” Brandt said. He glanced to the overseer turning the audiograph, waiting for his signal. He picked up a sheet and carefully read it through before letting his weary stare rest on Steven. “We’ve quite a bit on tonight’s agenda. Too much, really. Steven…Baker, was it? Yes, I’m sure you realize this won’t be a normal trial, as your comrade Overseer Hogarth Franklin is here with us.”

“I’ve noticed,” Steven replied, only then to have McLarty hand rest and squeeze his shoulder. Steven understood the firm, if not slightly painful, message, and quickly ceased. 

Neither Elder seemed to notice, or care.

“We will begin with Elder Sampson’s account of what he saw,” Elder Brandt announced.

“Yes,” Elder Sampson said. “Earlier today I was asked by one of my underlings to come to my office and speak with Daniel Tennyson, regarding the ethics of Overseer Franklin.” He paused, then turned to Brandt. “A troubled, young man in need of our guidance. I was told that another overseer was keeping his busy. When I finally had time…” Sampson broke, his face red with anger and disappointment. It hurt for Steven to see it. “ _Steven_ , when I came into my office, I saw you assaulting a young man who was assigned to our care.”

“Steven, do you disagree with Elder Sampson’s statement?” Brandt asked.

Steven shut his eyes. Just then, he felt McLarty squeeze his shoulder. It wasn’t nearly as painful as the one before. If anything, it was almost comforting. It surprised Steven. It was so unlike his superior to show any signs of encouragement.

“No, sir,” Steven said, and just then McLarty’s grip eased a bit, and gave him a quick rub. It was almost like a hidden message, affirming to Steven he had done good. At least, it was what Steven wished to believe. He knew it couldn’t possibly be the case, and was sure once Tennyson’s account was given, McLarty would express his true self.

“We will now give the account written by Overseer Baker’s _victim_ ,” Brandt said, as if on cue. Steven winced at the word. His stomach twisted. Nothing could prepare him for what was to come. Brandt picked up a second sheet, stood up, and read aloud; “According to Daniel E. M. Tennyson, you threw him, causing him to slip and fall on his side. Tennyson stated that you were trying to get him snacks, but out of frustration, he decided to attack your morale, calling you names and testing your resolve with bribery. After your insistent refusal, he snuck up on you and said a series of inappropriate remarks about your mother, resulting in the assault.”

Steven’s jaw almost dropped. Had he heard that right? _All_ of it?

Brandt continued: “After members of the Abbey attended to him, Tennyson stated he received no internal damage, and will “probably be fine.”” Brandt paused before adding: “His words, not mine. He also…and I must say, he gets quite repetitive here, Lord Tennyson makes several written statements declaring that, up until his assault, Overseer Baker was kind and _incredibly_ patient with him.”

Steven continued staring out, trying to absorb everything he was hearing. He couldn’t believe it: Tennyson lied? And for what? What was the purpose of setting himself for the wrong? Steven couldn’t think of a reason why Daniel wouldn’t want to bring the man down with him…and it would be so easy, too!

“Well, Steven,” Brandt said, sitting himself back down. “While I understand the pressure you were under, and although Mr. Tennyson was willing to admit fault, at the end of the day, you did assault a visitor.”

“Yes,” McLarty responded from behind, and his interruption caused Steven to fidget in his seat. “And I’m sure Steven will not attempt to defend such inappropriate behavior, right?”

Just then, Steven felt another squeeze from McLarty. Once again, it wasn’t painful, but this time Steven could feel the ball of McLarty’s thumb rolling into his shoulder. He shook his head. “No, sir,” Steven said which as much humility as he could. Not that he wasn’t grateful for the lie, though it did make him increasingly uncomfortable. Why? Why did Daniel lie about their conversation? “I am aware what I did was wrong. I attacked someone without a just cause.”

“Very well,” Brandt said, concluding. “Well, with admission of guilt, all that’s left is for the two of us will assign you a proper punishment…”

“Not yet,” McLarty snapped. “There’s still the issue we need to discuss!”

“Ah, yes,” Sampson replied quietly. “Perhaps it is too unorthodox…”

“ _Perhaps_?” Hogarth interrupted. All turned to see Hogarth, now standing. He scowled openly at the Elders sitting at the table. “It’s downright awful. A stupid idea, and the fact that you’re even considering it–”

“Hold your tongue,” McLarty barked back. “And sit down. Let us Elders discuss the proper route of action, and you follow with utmost obedience.” He frowned, then turned to Sampson and uttered a sarcastic chuckle. “And you say my boys are in better need of controlling.”

“Sir, if I may speak,” Steven broke out. He saw the angered look on his superior’s face, and instantly regretted it, but nervousness continued to eat him. Why had Daniel lied? Why was Hogarth here to begin with? All these questions lead Steven to move ahead and continue: “What is going on?”

Brandt turned to Elder Sampson. “You have something that needs to be announced, right?”

“Needs?” Hogarth commented loudly.

“Silence, Hogarth. And yes.” Sampson said. “Before he left, Tennyson wished that I inform Overseer Baker that he is sorry for the disturbance he caused, and wants nothing more than to apologize personally, if given the opportunity.”

Steven nearly shot up from his seat. Yet another lie, and this one too damn good to be true. He stared at the light emitting from above, shocked at what he had heard. Behind him, McLarty stood, humming in approval at each word. Not too far from him, Hogarth sat, arms crossed and rolling his eyes.

Sampson continued, but at a much softer tone. “Steven, the boy said you were unlike any warfare overseer he had the displeasure of meeting…and would rather be forced to work under your care than Overseer Franklin.”

Hogarth snorted. “Hmph.”

 _Oh_. It all made sense then.

“So why not, then?” McLarty suggested.

Sampson shrugged. “Well, there is a lot we must consider. Steven is a warfare overseer. He hasn’t received the proper training…”

It made sense now. Daniel Tennyson lied for his sake, because he intended on swapping Hogarth out for him! He wanted the chastity belt removed, and there was no way Hogarth would have it removed for at least a few weeks. Hogarth was trained for this, and no amount of bribery or threats would change that. Since his plan to have Hogarth punished no doubt failed, it only made sense for the man to hash out another plan.

And this one was quite devious. Tennyson had caught Steven. He knew, or at the very least, highly suspected him of similar perversions. No, Daniel knew it, and was now using it against him. Rather than punish him outright, he was going to attempt to use him to get the key and free himself from his bondage.

Oh, but the poor man had failed to consider whether Steven could, or _would_ , for that matter, accept such a responsibility. Steven didn’t need to think too hard about it. He was out of the clear, saved once again by the luck of the Cosmos. He had learned his lesson, truly. No amount of convincing would make him change his mind. Tennyson, no matter how cunning he might be, would be left to Hogarth. It didn’t matter if the cage was there, looming over Steven’s mind like some delightful toy. Steven learned his lesson.

“Gentlemen, you are both failing at witnessing the bigger picture,” McLarty’s voice broke through Steven’s train of thought. “While I do not know the complete story, what I do know is that you received a private letter from a rich, powerful tradesman. And because he is a rich, powerful tradesman, you are trying to keep this as covert as possible, in the hopes that he will reward us.” Once again, McLarty’s gloves squeezed the wooden frame of the chair. Steven could hear a soft, but noticeable moan behind him, sending a chill up his neck. “But do not forget that sodomy is! It is a disgusting, reprehensible act formulated by the Outsider. It is something that not even animals commit. And do not forget: behind every sodomite is another. No, we shall not arrest this man so long as his father rewards us…but what of the men he is hiding? Shall we let them continue in such acts, without any punishment?”

Brandt and Sampson shared a similar look of disdain on their face, one that struck Steven’s heart with guilt. Even Hogarth, who stood firm in his place, was now covering the front of his mask, as though to contain his hidden revulsion.

“You know as well as I do that your acts, though potentially life altering, do not hold to the same testament as mine,” McLarty continued, unaffected by turning mood in the room. “We cannot save every sodomite from the Outsider’s influence, and that’s where my men come in. For years, my men have assured anyone holding a terrible secret will, in one way or another, relinquish it.”

Steven shivered again. Not because McLarty’s hands jostled him, but because he understood his superior’s intent, and the real reason he stood behind him, rather than at the table with the men of his rank.

McLarty intended to use him, just as Daniel and Sampson before him. He saw both elders in front of him, accepting McLarty’s speech to much effect.

“This is true, but…” Brandt paused, pulled out yet another file from the table, read its contents, and then returned to McLarty. “Steven is only twenty-two, and although he has some experience with aggressors, I do not believe he has ever faced a true battle. An interrogation, perhaps, but nothing that requires–”

“Yes, when it comes to war, Steven is just a boy…but he is trained in the same arts as discipline as any of my men,” McLarty said, now slapping his hands on top of Steven’s stiff shoulders. Though Steven was too nervous to turn around and watch his superior play his audience, he could easily imagine the look on McLarty’s face. “He has earned the trust of this filthy delinquent, and to not use this to our advantage would be foolish. Howard, David, I implore you: allow Steven to work with Hogarth, for each to use his own set of skills, and victor over the Outsider.”

He concluded his speech, letting the room go silent as both elders contemplated what to do. Steven sank in his seat, letting the weight of McLarty’s governing hands continue to work him like a puppet.

Sampson was the first to break the silence. “You put up a strong argument, Jasper,” he said. Brandt nod his head in conformation, but before he could speak up, Sampson stopped him. His old eyes rested on both Hogarth and Steven. “However, we will need Steven and Hogarth to agree with this.”

Of course, before Steven could even fathom thinking of a polite way to decline, McLarty’s hands pinched his shoulder, and in his stead, McLarty said; “I assure, Steven is more than willing to endeavor and save this man. But, if you do not believe me, ask him yourself… _Steven_?”

All eyes rested on Steven. Trapped again, he thought bitterly to himself before conceded to McLarty’s demands. Just when he thought he was free from the trap he willingly placed himself in, McLarty pulled him straight back in it.

And now the bars were locked shut. Steven could not think of a way out, not after McLarty purposely refrained from administering a punishment. To think, the man had played him–everyone–in the room, just to have one of his precious warfare overseers in a delicate matter. In any other situation, Steven would have been impressed by it. So strategic, perhaps even a bit devious. But now? Steven wanted nothing to do with it. But he had no choice.

To think, this all started with his perverse fascination with a cage.

 _A cage_.

“You flatter me, sir,” Steven started, softly, hoping it might discourage the crowd. But it didn’t, and all eyes continued to fixate on his form. He sighed inwardly, and continued: “If you believe I have the wits for it, I will gladly agree to working alongside Hogarth, if he will have me…”

Finally, all eyes broke from Steven, now turning to Hogarth. The lack of stares immediately relaxed Steven, but he knew there was no changing his fate.

“Well, I suppose if everyone is on board, I’ve little choice in the matter,” Hogarth said, confirming Steven’s fears. Hogarth sighed, then removed his mask. “I will take Overseer Baker under my wing, and have him work with me, for now,” he said, then faced Steven. “But I warn you, I will not tolerate rash decisions your lot are so accustomed to performing. Lord Tennyson may not agree with his son, but I doubt he’ll stand around while you manhandle him like you did before!”

“Then it is settled,” Brandt said with sudden delight. “Hogarth Franklin will attend to fixing Daniel of his undesirable element, while Steven Baker will both aid his superior, and gain any additional knowledge that may aid in removing or curing other sodomites in our capital.” He turned to the overseer sitting at his desk, carefully monitoring the audiograph. “Do we have time…ah we do. Perfect, let’s move on to administering a suitable punishment for Mr. Baker here…”

* * *

“I hope you realize what I’ve done for you,” McLarty said shortly after he and Steven left the meeting room. The two were on the way to the barracks, when McLarty stopped, grabbing Steven and pulling him out of sight from any late-night wanderers. “I do not tolerate any sort of dissent in my ranks, and what you did…”

Steven sniffed, pulling his lips inward to hold in the pain McLarty’s grip had on him.

“Oh, you are so lucky we’ve been looking for an opportunity such as this one,” McLarty said. “The son of a damn tradesman! And for the main Serkonos route, too!” He chuckled manically, as though he were under some strange trance. When he was done, he let go of Steven.

Steven stepped back, reached for his shoulder, and gave the tender area a rub. McLarty remained next to him, devising some unknown plan.

“I think it goes without saying that you are very lucky, privileged even,” McLarty said, ignoring Steven’s obvious discomfort. “If you do as I say, you’ll be the reason our branch will receive more funding. More attention. Prestige. Steven, do you understand what I am telling you?”

“Yes, sir.” Steven said, nodding frantically.

For the briefest moment, it appeared McLarty expressed some concern for Steven, for he eased his temperament, lowering his otherwise rigid stance. The man crossed his arms, patiently waiting for Steven to catch himself. This time though, Steven knew better, and didn’t allow himself to relax too much. He had to tread carefully now.

“You will apologize to him...and you will humor that pervert,” McLarty said once he was sure Steven was both composed and attentive. “Do whatever you must to get him to trust you. But make sure to pry a few names from him. A man of his status no doubt sleeps around with men alike in dignity. I doubt he’s spending his night low filth.”

For some odd reason, the later half of what McLarty said didn’t set well with Steven. The image alone made the young man feel unwell. Daniel…sleeping with other men? Oh, but he was sodomite, a slave to the Outsider. Steven already knew this, but hearing it from McLarty, and seeing Daniel in that sort of position, left him mixed with unease and frustration.

“If you must, rile him up,” McLarty added.

Steven jolted. “Sir?”

McLarty chuckled again, and this time it was far more menacing. Almost downright evil. “I read the report. _Everything_. Do you really think I believe that report that boy wrote out?”

Steven paled upon hearing the news. He clenched his mask, not caring that McLarty was reading into it, and no doubt taking pleasure in his exposure. McLarty looked around the hall, and once he saw they were alone, pulled Steven closer to him.

“I know damn well why that boy was being nice to you,” McLarty whispered. “I think I don’t need to tell you what sort of advantage you have over him.” Reflexively, Steven shook his head. But it wasn’t for the reason McLarty thought. No, in truth, Steven disagreed with his superior. Daniel Tennyson was trying to use him! But McLarty pressed on, uncaring of what Steven had to think or say about the situation. “The second you get a name from him, you report to me, understand?”

Steven frowned. This was all because he couldn’t keep his mind out of the gutter. Because he allowed the Outsider’s influence into his heart, instead of what was right for him.

All because of that tempting cage, and watching that poor nobleman struggle…

“Steven!” A hot, white smack flashed across Steven’s head. He nearly dropped down, saving himself if only not to look any weaker in front of his enraged superior. “Do you understand me, or not?” McLarty barked at him, his hand raised high in preparation for another lash.

Without so much as a sniff, Steven corrected his posture and faced McLarty.

“Yes, sir,” he said, answering firmly. “I will do what needs to be done.”


	4. Chapter 4

Two days after the trial, Steven met Hogarth outside of Holger Square for their first meeting with Daniel Tennyson. The two exchanged a few words during their travel back to the Tennyson estate, but neither was too friendly towards the other. It was apparent from the beginning that both overseers were not too comfortable with their situation, and didn’t know what to expect from such an unusual collaboration.

They arrived at the estate on a bright, warm morning. Because the sun was not at its highest, and the winds far more delicate, the perfume in the air was more tolerable than before, though it still left Steven queasy. He could only associate the spiced scent with the young man awaiting their arrival. When Steven peered up at the many windows, he was sure he could make out the figure of the young lord casting down his fierce stare, but when Hogarth beckoned him to the door, saw nothing but the dark curtains.

Again, they were greeted by a servant, who escorted them to the waiting room. The head butler explained that Lord Tennyson was busy with work, and would not be present anytime during the day. The lady of the house was out shopping, and would be home within the hour, but would be spending her day outside in preparation for a small, afternoon party.

“And their son?” Hogarth inquired.

The head butler smiled. “He’ll be up shortly.”

As the two waited for Daniel to make his no doubt grand appearance, one again Steven found his eyes wandering the room. Like before, it was an act done out of curiosity and shame, but now Steven sought to find evidence he could use against Daniel. He so desperately needed some advantage over the young lord. Anything really, so long as it placed him out of direct harm from the Outsider’s dangerous workings.

A maid entered with a tray of cups and light snacks. She smiled modestly at the two before setting the tray before them. “The young lord is just getting up,” she said, setting her eyes to the floor. Both overseers turned to one another, surprised at the news. “If you give him a moment, he will be down…” she said, and they caught her cheeks beginning to flush with embarrassment before quickly leaving the room.

“That’s what the butler meant,” Hogarth exclaimed, irritated. “Dear me, this boy is something. I can see why his father wants little to do with him.”

Steven slumped forward. He stared at the empty tea cups, the assorted digestives and biscuits, and sighed. He did not want to engage in conversation with Hogarth, not when his patience was wearing so thin. But with snooping currently out of the question, and his anxiety on the rise, Steven couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.

“Tell me, what do these visits usually entail?” Steven asked.

“A physical checkup, for starters,” Hogarth answered. He picked up a thin biscuit, examining it carefully before deciding whether to remove his mask and try the treat. “Though the device is usually no harm to the person, some may prove more delicate than others. I check for welts or rashes, that sort of thing.”

Steven grimaced under his mask. He could already envision the sight of bronze-colored cage, sheathing Daniel’s member. Feeling a slight warmth beginning to burgeon and replace the nausea in his stomach, he quickly cast the image aside.

“And what else?” he asked promptly.

“The rest of the afternoon I consult the mental capacities of our subject,” Hogarth answered. He removed his mask, and took a bite of biscuit. “This usually consists of an interview and analysis. Though, the first or two usually involves arguing more than anything else.” He finished the rest of his biscuit before turning his attention to the tea, serving himself a cup. “Counseling tends to be a personal event. I normally don’t have my own underlings involved in the first two meetings. I suppose you’ll need to busy yourself with another task.”

“I suppose I will,” Steven said, admittedly with some relief. But before he allowed himself to relax, another thought hit him. He couldn’t begin to think of what lewd or inappropriate things Daniel might say alone with Hogarth, much less with him involved. Steven barely avoided corporal punishment from McLarty. If Daniel so much as suggested that he suspected Steven of similar perversions, then he could very well end up in an interrogation chair.

Steven shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. Was there a way he could suggest Hogarth to allow him to oversee such a personal task?

“I imagine you’ll want to snoop about, mayhap see the young lord’s room for…whatever it is you’re looking for?” Hogarth inquired before taking a sip of tea. The blend was unknown to Steven, but its fragrance was strong enough to warrant a pause from both overseers. Once finished, Hogarth sighed pleasantly. “Good stuff, you should pour yourself a cup.”

“That’s because it’s Serkonan,” a voice interjected.

Steven peered over his shoulder, and saw Daniel Tennyson standing at the entrance to the room, dressed in a mixture of loose-fitting clothes. Almost reflexively, his eyes sauntered across the man’s lithe form, outlining the shape of the young man’s legs and thighs until it all became obscured under the swaying layers.

“Daniel Tennyson,” Hogarth proclaimed. He set his tea aside, then grabbed his mask to cover his face.

“Overseer Franklin,” he replied, then drew his lips into a thin, nasty grin. “You look far older than you sound. The Abbey life must be difficult.”

“Your remarks don’t concern me,” Hogarth said back, but continued to fit his mask into place.

Daniel scoffed, then proceeded to roll his eyes like a child. He made his way to the armchair set across from the two overseers, and fell into the seat. He kicked his legs up, and it was then Steven noticed the man wasn’t wearing any boots or sandals, and that his feet were completely naked. He stared more, saw Daniel’s hair was unrestrained by any wax or ribbons, and that the loose shirt he wore lacked any buttons, and realized the man was wearing some form of nightgown. Steven attempted to nudge Hogarth, but as he did, saw that Daniel was staring right at him.

“Overseer Baker,” Daniel said. His sly grin eased into something smaller, _gentler_ . He sat himself upright, crossing one leg over the other, his movement smooth and–dare Steven even suggest it– _rehearsed_. “I’m glad to see you again…that is, if it is you?”

“It is,” Steven said. Already he felt stuffy under his mask. Remembering McLarty’s threat though, he powered through his discomfort, and stood from his seat before casting Daniel a short bow. “And let me begin by apologizing to you. Me behavior towards you was inappropriate, hardly suitable for a normal man, much less a follower of the Abbey.”

Though he could not see it, he heard Daniel chuckle. Something bubbled in him. Steven couldn’t figure whether it was annoyance, rage, or fear.

“That’s alright,” Daniel replied. “I’ve my own set of apologies I owe to you…though, I think I’ll save it for a later time. Maybe once after I’ve properly cleaned and dressed myself.”

“I’m sorry?” Hogarth said. “Did you say…” 

It must have been then that Hogarth realized that Daniel was still donning his sleeping gown, because when Steven stood up to take his seat again, he could see Hogarth was visibly upset. It didn’t matter that he had the mask on, as Steven could feel the rage starting to build and slowly begin to bleed off of Hogarth.

Daniel feigned innocence. “You don’t expect me to entertain you while still dressed in this, do you?” he asked, pointing at his outfit. “Have no mistake, I am glad you’re here. As you can imagine, the past few days have been incredibly hard on me.” He stopped, then made a face before breaking into a sad chuckle. “Poor choice of words, but you know what I mean.”

Hogarth sighed. “Please get dressed, Mr. Tennyson,” he said with some exasperation to his voice.

“Oh, I intend to, don’t worry,” Dan replied smoothly. “Just as soon as you unlock me and allow me a moment. To bathe, Overseer Franklin.”

“Excuse me?” Hogarth asked, offended. “You want me to remove the device?”

Daniel just finished pouring himself a cup of tea, and was reaching for some cream when he replied, just as calmly as before, “I thought that was just what I said. Oh, don’t tell me your hearing is affected by your line of work as well…” He then turned to Steven, smiled, and added, “Overseer Baker, won’t you have some tea?”

“No thank you,” Steven answered with caution. Other than annoying and testing Hogarth’s patience, Steven could not figure out Daniel’s goal.

A soft hum caused Steven to turn and spot Lady Tennyson and two of her servants behind her, carrying an assortment of flowers and fine silverware. No sooner had he noticed, both Hogarth and Daniel broke from their staring contest, and let their eyes meet the lady of the house stand in the doorway to the waiting room.

“Daniel,” she said as she crossed the room, and came to a standstill in front of her son, who had at least enough manners to raise into a more upright position compared to his slouching earlier. “Daniel," she said again, extending a hand to brush over her son's uncombed hair; completely in ignorance of the two overseers who were watching. “Please tell me you’re answering their questions?”

“I am, mother,” Daniel sighed, leaning his head a little into her touch before she withdrew. Against his beautiful, young skin, Steven could see her age, the wrinkles and protruding veins. And yet she was so gentle and graceful. Once again, it plunged Steven into a pit of guilt to be here, sullying her presence with his dirty mind. She then cast her eyes on him, then to Hogarth.

“Very good,” she said, and without saying a word to either overseer, called her servants and left the room to tend and decorate her garden. She was about to leave the room, but lingered near the entrance, then out of nowhere, cast her son delicate, yet profound stare. Steven could not decipher its unknown meaning, but it caused Daniel’s smile to shrink, returning to her a an equally sensitive look that he maintained until he knew she was outside.

“Lovely woman,” Daniel commented. He raised his cup, as to make a toast. “Too old to be dealing with my business. But she tries her damnedest.”

“If only her son would offer half the effort she does,’ Hogarth muttered loud enough for Daniel to pick up. “Please, get dressed, so that I may begin my work.”

“In a moment,” Daniel said, this time with forced vigor. “I need to shower first.”

“You may do that after I’ve concluded my work.”

“And what, pray tell, does the work consist of?” Daniel inquired between short sips of tea. “An interview, right? I can’t imagine much else taking place…” He covered his smirk with his cup, then took a long and very loud sip, watching in glee as Hogarth worked to stretch his patience.

Hogarth was silent. Too silent. It was clear the man was trying to keep calm. Though Steven was grateful Daniel focusing his attention on Hogarth, he felt bad for the man, and thought it would be in his best interest to help Hogarth.

“There will be a physical examination,” Steven said softly.

“Why, thank you, Overseer Baker,” Daniel said with blatant, if not a bit obnoxious, gusto. “It’s nice to get plain answers. And a physical examination? Why, surely that can be performed during my wash…”

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Hogarth said.

“Indeed, I would,” Daniel replied, amused. “After all, I am of a rotten mind. I’m in need of curing, Overseer Franklin.” His thin smile turned into a small pout. “Please, Overseer Franklin. Teach me your ways.” He fell back into his seat, nearly spilling his tea in the process. “The Outsider has me in his warm, _strong_ arms–”

“Mr. Tennyson,” Hogarth said flatly. “I understand you are not a fan of me, and what I’ve done to you. But understand these childish antics will not free you of my care any faster. If anything, you’re only proving your father’s point that you need the attention I’m giving you.” Hogarth stood up. It was like he was trying to give himself some advantage over Daniel. Steven didn’t think it worked well, as Daniel remained firmly poised in his seat, barely looking bemused. “I understand you are frustrated. That is the point. But rather than unleash your frustration unto me, I insist that you reflect on your past actions. Think about why you’re here, in such a sorry state. You want to be freed? Then listen to me, and do what you’re told. If you are obedient, if you try and follow the Seven Strictures, you can be cured of your mental illness.”

The room was silent, save for the servants trying to maneuver through the room without warranting any unwanted attention from their master or the overseers. His eyes on Daniel, Steven clasped his hands together, waiting in preparation for the man to make his next move. Since Hogarth finished, the man hadn’t so much as blinked. Remembering what Daniel had done two days prior, Steven pondered over what sort of trickery was up on the noble’s sleeve. He could easy fathom yelling, perhaps even a tantrum–something that would continue to prod at Hogarth’s patience.

Both waited, but to their surprise, Daniel said nothing. The young noble merely stared back, allowing only the briefest of smiles before attending to his light snack. He closed his eyes and took another sip of his tea, before setting it back on the table and saying, “Well, then.” He then stood up from his seat and, without regarding either Steven or Hogarth, left the room.

“Just goes to show you what a few words can do.” Hogarth removed his mask. Underneath he was red, and his face lined with sweat. With a smile, Hogarth wiped himself clean of the sweat, then turned to Steven, and said, “You see, that? I appealed to his better half. And I didn’t have to resort to violence.”

The attack felt unnecessary, and Steven had the right mind to comment on it; but after everything Daniel had put him through, the sight of the young noble walking away without a fight left Steven uneasy.

“That was too easy,” he remarked, leaning on his side to catch a glimpse of the hall. He thought Daniel might be lurking around the corner, but he wasn’t.

“Relax, Steven,” Hogarth replied, already returning to the platter of biscuits. “Not everything needs to be solved with physically assertion. He may be rotten, but he’s still a man. And men can be reasoned with.”

Steven tugged at the ends of his gloves. “If you’re sure.”

“I know I’m sure,” Hogarth insisted before taking a bite of a digestive. “Honestly, Steven. Your lot’s been trained to assume the worst in men. Yes, the Outsider preys upon our weakness, but we are the light that returns them to the sanctity of the Cosmos. Though the stars may seem random, they are not. Everything has order, and we can align humanity to that order.” He pointed at the last empty up sitting on the tray. “If you’re not going to snoop about, then have a cup of tea. Make the most of the Lord’s hospitality.”

Steven picked up the cup, poured himself some tea, but found it difficult to remove his mask. He dropped a cube of sugar in his tea, and stirred it while trying to find some appetite in him. Surely it couldn’t have been this easy, he thought.

The two waited in their seats, with Steven nervously stirring his cup while Hogarth finished off his second, then third treat. Steven saw a servant from outside pass them by, then return with more fine silverware. Then he watched the same girl reappear, this time with another, and like before, watched them come and go with additional decorations for Mrs. Tennyson’s upcoming party. Each time a servant girl passed, Steven’s agitation grew. But it was the sight of the head butler stopping one of the girls and whispering in her ear, causing her to stop her chores and head upstairs, that made Steven suspicious. He looked down at his cup, let a finger press against it, and saw that how much it had cooled. Lacking any subtlety, he glanced around the room, and spotted a clock tucked away in the corner. How long had the two been waiting?

“Excuse me,” Steven said, stopping a servant girl holding a set of napkins. “Do you know if the young lord is nearly ready to come down?”

Hogarth didn’t like the question one bit, and threw a scowl at Steven after the girl left the room. But she and the servant from before returned, explaining that Daniel had locked himself in the washroom, and was currently waiting for the water to heat up. Hogarth wasn’t prepared for such an answer, and after hearing it, cursed under his breath. “The bastard,” he hissed out. Steven shuddered. He had heard Hogarth well enough, and was sure the girls had as well. “He’s making a fool of us,” Hogarth commented again, this time louder than before.

Steven sighed inwardly, knowing full well that Hogarth’s presumptuous behavior was to blame, but kept his mouth shut. To make matters worse, the first girl, no doubt a reaction to Hogarth’s distasteful remark about the young lord, decided it best to speak with Lady Tennyson, and hurried out before either could stop her. A minute later, the fine lady returned wearing a most fierce expression.

“Overseers,” she said, looking past Steven and Hogarth with contempt. “I know your presence here is required, and there is little I can do to change that, but I will not have you speaking ill of my child while you sit around and take advantage of my generosity!” She took her servant’s hand in hers, then asked for the overseer charged with libel against her son. The girl’s finger pointed to Hogarth, and Steven watched the Lady’s eye narrowed into thin, vicious slits.

“ _You_ ,” she said to Hogarth. “I would like you to accompany me to my garden. We must share a word.”

“And you!” she pointed an elegant finger at Steven. “…don’t just sit there, wasting space,” she said, her voice turning towards desperation. “Lord Tennyson promised me that you would see to it my son was cared for.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steven said, jumping from his seat to attention. 

Hogarth tugged at his side. “Listen,” he said before slowly rising. The once proud look he wore was gone, and now the overseer brandished a more humbled, albeit fearful, complexion. Hogarth sighed. “I’ll attend to the Lady. Steven, whatever magic you worked before: I’ll need you to do it again.”

Steven found the remark painful ironic. He was sure that the Outsider was no doubt watching them and working his terrible magic against him, luring him closer to Daniel Tennyson.

There was little else Steven could do but nod, and watching solemnly as Hogarth followed Lady Tennyson, his head held lower than Steven had ever seen. The servant crossed her arms, looking impatient. Steven couldn’t believe the situation he was in. First, he’s made a fool by some immature lord, now this? If he were at his posts, or any given street, he’d only need to rest his hand over the hilt of his sword, and the girl wouldn’t think twice about giving him attitude. If it weren’t for McLarty and Hogarth, he’d consider doing just that.

“Well, lead the way,” he said, ignoring the girl’s curved brows and contemptuous smirk.

The servant lead Steven out of the waiting room, through the main entrance and to the staircase. Steven ogled the paintings that lined the dreary halls, trying to find some inspiration in them to help quell the anxiety growing within his gut. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle on the fact that he would be trying to reason with a man who very well may be half-dressed, if not completely naked. Not that any of this should matter, Steven reminded himself. Male nudity was common in his ranks, and nothing to be afraid of. And what if Daniel was naked? Steven could simply look away, or remain on the other side of the door.

Yes, that was what he would do. Avoid all possible contact with Daniel. This way, he didn’t run the risk of catching the man’s restrained member, and could better control himself from any further mistakes. For it was the cage that brought him into this mess in the first place.

They stopped at a door, whereupon the servant knocked and announced Steven’s presence.

“Tell Overseer Franklin I’m quite busy,” Daniel’s muffled voice called out.

Steven swallowed a cough before knocking on the door. “It’s me,” he said. “O-Overseer Baker. Overseer Franklin is currently attending to your mother, and has requested I speak with you in his stead.”

Steven waited, pressing the side of his head against the door as to listen in on the sounds that were occurring on the other side of the door. He could make out some footsteps, mixed with a most unusual sound that he couldn’t make out. He considered removing his mask so that he could better position himself against the door, but the door swiftly opened the second he brought his hand to his chin. Steven stumbled back, barely catching himself in time to see Daniel dressed only in a robe.

“Listening in on me?” Daniel commented with an amused smile. “What nosy little overseer you are. You’re lucky none of the Strictures directly mentions ears.” He smiled at the servant. “Fetch me some port, will you?” he asked. “Two glasses. Oh, and my usual.”

The girl left and, leaving the door open, Daniel disappeared into the washroom, forcing Steven to decide his next move. He shivered, feeling the moist heat waft through the openings on his mask. His heart raced, and his errant mind raced and produced the worst images it could think of. After all, Daniel was only dressed in a thin, diaphanous robe. Shocked at his own imagination, Steven blushed under his mask. He couldn’t go into that room! He couldn’t! He was about to grab the doorknob and shut the door in front of him, when a voice from within alerted Steven that the servant girl would return with a drink. The thought elated and eased him, and with his shaking hand, he pushed it open further and walked in.

The room, like everything else on the estate, was large and far too spacious for Steven’s liking. Gloomy walls and dark wooden flooring were replaced with bright tiles, and the large window at the end of the room had its curtains pulled aside, fueling the already bright and steamy room with the warm light from the rising sun. The center of the washroom contained the tub, with it a tray of an assortment of perfumes and oils. At the far end of the room, hovering close to the window, was Daniel.

“Come here,” Daniel said without turning. He waited until Steven was close before pressing a finger against the window pane. “Now, look out the window.”

Steven continued to inch forward, stopping when he felt he was close enough to peer through the window. Daniel stepped aside, giving him more space to witness the scene below. Outside, the garden shone in a brilliant array of yellow, orange and red. Towards the end of the garden, amongst some lush greenery, Steven spotted Hogarth standing with Lady Tennyson. They were too far to make out clearly; however, though he could not make out Lady Tennyson’s facial expression, Steven could read her body language. The bold and sudden movements of her arms and fingers, and the sharp strike of a finger pointed directly at his face informed Steven that Hogarth was receiving his fair share of verbal reprimanding from the woman.

“Tell me,” he heard Daniel say beside him, “what is more satisfying to you? Seeing that smug bastard getting his comeuppance, or having a moment’s privacy with me?”

Unprepared for such a question, Steven stepped away from the window, immediately turning his attention to Daniel. “Excuse me?” Steven asked, trying to sound more offended than nervous.

Daniel chuckled, then removed himself from the window. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t hate the man. I heard him talking about your snooping, amongst other things.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve replied. He suddenly felt too warm and sticky under his mask. He wondered when the girl would return.

“Oh, I know,” Daniel said, walking to the bathtub. “Just wanted to see if you always stutter when you’re caught off guard. You don’t. Probably a good thing too, you’d never get promoted otherwise.”

Steven frowned. “Listen, Mr. Tennyson.”

“You can call me Daniel.” Daniel smiled. Just then, the servant girl returned, wheeling in a small tray table. On it was an opened bottle, two glasses, and an audiograph. With a slight gesture from Daniel’s hand, the girl left as quickly as she arrived. She closed the door behind her.

Daniel poured himself a glass. “Yes, Daniel should be fine for now. But I do intend on calling you by your title. I’m quite sure you enjoy that, _Overseer Baker_.”

Steven swallowed thickly. “Daniel, listen,” he said, trying to remain composed. After hearing Daniel call him that, whatever fear that had been boiling in Steven was gone. His stomach still turned, but with a different kind of energy. It swelled inside of him, but Steven controlled it. “It is in your best interest…”

“One more thing, Overseer Baker,” Daniel interrupted. He stirred his glass before casually glancing up and down Steven’s form. “How old are you?”

“What?”

“Your age, sir,” Daniel replied. He sipped his drink, and his eyes went wide with surprise at its taste. “You don’t sound old. Not much older than me–oh, but Overseer Franklin turned out to be such a disappointment.” He took another sip before placing it on top of the tray, then walked to where Steven stood. A voice instructed Steven to run away, but his feet remained firmly planted to the ground. Daniel got closer and closer, until Steven could feel the heat from the man’s body emitting from those light robes…or perhaps it was the heat from his own, wicked body.

Steven jolted, stepping back. Without warning, Dan’s hand sprung up, and so close to his mask, threatening to tear it away.

“Even with all this light, I can barely make out the shape of your eyes through that blasted cloth,” Daniel said in an all-too calm matter.

Steven huffed. It was too steamy in the washroom. Too warm.

And with Daniel facing him, facing the light, Steven could easily discern the shape of the young man’s body. His eyes traced over the legs, riding up each delicate outline before reaching the high, thick contours of Daniel’s thighs. Amongst the curvatures, Steven spotted the small yet prominent tip of the cage. The same, perverted fascination he felt before awoke again, and this time he lacked the authority of a fellow overseer to keep him on track.

Steven blinked, bringing himself back to clarify, if only for the briefest of seconds. “If you must know, I’m twenty-two.”

“Ah, a man. Though just barely,” Daniel said. To Steven’s surprise, he backed off, and returned henceforth to the bath. “I’ll keep that in mind. And thank you for your honesty.”

Daniel leaned against the tub, his eyes set on the steamy water. His hands undid the knot holding the robes together, and he pulled everything off his shoulders, letting it all fall to the floor. Steven inhaled a sharp breath before forcing himself to look away. Staring at the floor, he could hear Daniel let out a sinister chuckle. Steven blushed. Heat and moisture clouded his eyes. He listened as Daniel’s bare feet padded against the floor, and only dared to raise his head after hearing a body sink into water.

What lay before him; however, was arguably worse. With no robes to cover him, Daniel lay pleasantly within the confines of his tub, his nudity on display for Steven to view. The only thing that came close to hiding his naked form was a thin layer of white, foamy bubbles and steam, none of which hardly mattered to Steven’s roaming eyes. The moisture in the air only seemed to compliment Daniel’s bare skin, giving his warm hues an attractive, glistening look. Water collected and formed small droplets over the visible parts, weighing down what little body hair there was, and making it easier on anyone who stared to fixate on a limb, appendage, and view it in all its natural glory. But none of these temptations ran so high as the knowledge that both Daniel and Steven carried; for they both knew that Daniel wasn’t entirely naked. Steven could not begin to let his thoughts rest on that most dangerous fact that Daniel still harbored the cage around his member. That delicate organ was still encased in a cage of copper, and while Daniel appeared to rest comfortably in the tub, Steven knew a small portion remained confined and frustrated.

“Overseer Baker,” Daniel said with a mild sigh. He raised an arm, dripping wet, and pointed to the audiograph. “Do me a favor, would you? Overseer Baker?”

Steven blinked. He felt out of sorts, and almost forgot where he was. Without saying anything, and making sure to avoid any eye contact with the amused noble, Steven inched his way to the tray, and turned on the recording. A fuzzy, distant voice began to sing, and after a few seconds, the room filled with the sound of children whispering old hymns.

“Thank you,” he heard Daniel say. Again, forgetting himself, Steven turned, saw Daniel in the tub, and Steven, blushing, jerked away and stared hopelessly at the audiograph. “Tell me, Overseer Baker, do you suppose Overseer Franklin has the key on him? I didn’t see the suitcase he carried before…”

He heard water splash behind him. Visions from just moments ago blanketed Steven’s mind. His eyes filled with hunger as he saw Daniel’s nakedness again, this time coupled without the hot water or robes to cover it. How on earth his mind created this perverted image, Steven didn’t know. But his imagination continued to get the best of him. His wayward mind captured Daniel’s wet face, the steamy water latching to his hair and causing the curls to erupt and expand. Droplets gathered and fells down his bare legs. Goosebumps rising and spreading across the flesh. And, finally, the cage protecting that forbidden organ. His mind froze, completely engrossed on the wet dripping off the metal, on the lock that held everything together. Steven saw the cage, and he wanted nothing more than to reach for it. Grab it and tease it and watch the sheathed organ swell, suffer and cry from its hidden tip.

“Overseer Baker?”

Keeping his eyes on the tray, Steven answered: “I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“Ah, what a shame,” Daniel remarked. “I can’t imagine him sharing such a privilege with you. No…we’ll need to devise a way to fix that.”

Steven shook his head. “I don’t think–”

“Hand me the oils.” A wet hand, fingers outstretched, suddenly appeared in front of Steven. Disturbed by its mere presence, Steven moved back, avoiding it as he grabbed a bottle of oils, and then shoved it into Daniel’s hand. Steven recoiled back. He listened as Daniel hummed along the song, applying the oils to either his skin or bathwater. Steven did his best not to dwell on the thought, until a finger pressed against him, causing him to stir from his spot, and accidently meet Daniel.

“I love this song,” Daniel said, letting his head rest against the ceramic rim of the tub. His triumphant smile gleamed upwards to the ceiling as the old recording continued to fill the room. “My friend performed it several years back…that’s him doing the solo right now. Help yourself to some port. Don’t worry, no one’s looking.”

Steven gave a brief nod before attempting to once again look away. This time his eyes settled on the door.

Deep down he knew he had to leave. Though McLarty gave him permission to take advantage of Daniel’s perversions, Steven didn’t think he had the strength to accurately do so. The scene before was simply too much. Were it not for his uniform, Steven was sure he’d be caught red-faced, sweaty, and so close to losing control over his inner desires.

“You seem uncomfortable.” Steven jolted, and found Daniel staring happily at him. His brown eyes jumped up and down Steven’s stiff frame, absorbing each sharp contour like a strange work of art. “Interesting, because you’re still here.”

Why was he still here, Steven wondered. He already concluded this scene frightened him, and for all the wrong reasons. No, he couldn’t bear to provide himself the correct answer, for he knew such an answer meant he was no better than Daniel. Just as Daniel desired to see him without the mask, so too did Steven desire to witness Daniel.

“I…I want to know why you lied to Elder Sampson about what actually occurred,” Steven lied, his words slightly muffled through the mask.

Daniel turned himself around, and let both his arms rest on top of the rim. Steven held in a breath as the man allowed himself to float up a bit, showing off his buttocks for a moment before sinking into the water. Daniel snickered, aware of the effect it had. “Well, if you must know, I did it because I thought you could help me get the key from Overseer Franklin,” he answered.

It was as plain an answer as Steven could hope for. He already suspected such from Daniel beforehand, but to hear it spoken straight from the source?

“Why would you think such a thing?” Steven inquired, admittedly curious to know more.

“Come now, Overseer.” Daniel pulled himself up, exposing more of his backside. “I’m not stupid. I can tell when another man hungers for a taste of something _familiar_ …”

Steven’s hand could not help but wander downward, hoping to reach and grab for the hilt of his sword, if only to provide some line of defense and comfort against Daniel’s words. But when he did, there was nothing there except that slightly dull ache in the pit of his abdomen. A sickening glow of a twisted ember that, the longer Steven stared at Daniel, continued to build heat his soul. Very soon, Steven discovered himself wanting to grip and attend to something else…

“You make it obvious that your fascination over my predicament involves more than the usual concern,” Daniel continued.

What could Steven possibly say? The young nobleman was shockingly good at figuring him out. Despite everything–the sad first impression, his acting out at Holger Square–underneath the stubborn, snide attitude typical of a noble, this young man was rather brilliant.

He’d make a great overseer, Steven thought. He’d be ashamed if he wasn’t so impressed, so eager to see what else Daniel knew about him.

“I can only fathom the guilty expression you’re wearing now.” Daniel reached for the tray and grabbed his glass. Steven watch as Daniel finished it all before resting it back on the tray. “Not to worry, though: I can keep a secret. I have many secrets. And I’d be more than willing to carry some of your secrets, if you help me.”

“Mr. Tennyson.”

“ _Daniel_ ,” Daniel corrected, giving Steven a playful glance that only made things worse for him. Now Steven could feel the warmth spread across his trousers, threatening to come alive.

Steven sighed. “Daniel, I think you misunderstand me…”

Daniel glanced downward. “Your pants say otherwise.”

The comment forced Steven out of position. Fear engulfed him, and his hands reached to cover himself. But when Steven looked down and saw no evidence of an erection (other than the feel of simmering heat focused at the head), and then heard Daniel laugh at him, he cursed aloud.

“Made you look,” he heard Daniel chide.

Steven huffed. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait, wait!” Daniel called, but Steven was already headed to the door. No, he would not stand for this. It was bad enough his body was so weak, his mind corrupted with impure thoughts. But now this man, a sodomite, was making a fool of him?!

“Alright, fine!” Daniel called. He sounded different to Steven. _Desperate._ “You’re not the only in agony here, Overseer Baker. If you don’t fancy me, I can think of plenty other men who’d be more than willing to satisfy your desires. And they’d wear the cage, too, if you so requested.”

Steven stopped. He didn’t know why, or at least, he tried to convince himself he wasn’t entirely aware of why he did. But he stood, his hand just inches away from the door. His heart was beating, face hot and muscles tight. The tip of his own cock betrayed him, and he could feel blood threatening to collect and show the young lord what a deplorable hypocrite he was. Yet he stood, waiting on Daniel Tennyson.

“I can lie right now for you,” Daniel said. “I’ll clean myself up, and I’ll inform my mother and your associate that you’ve convinced me…I’ll do whatever you want if it makes you look good on your report.”

Another lie, Steven thought.

It was a lie that got Daniel into this mess, he thought, but it was also his false tongue that Steven trapped in this web. In truth, it was a tempting offer, and if Steven were any more corrupt, he’d consider it.

In truth, he was considering it now. But not because he was corrupt–no–but following orders. Yes, Steven thought, persuading himself that the only reason he was turning to face the man a final time was because he was dedicated to the Abbey. McLarty ordered that he control the man before him, lead him to providing names and establishments holding any dark secrets.

Appearing as confidently as he could, Steven silently approached Daniel, making sure to keep his gaze set on Daniel’s dark eyes, and nowhere else.

He was doing this for the Abbey, he told himself. Daniel could believe whatever he wanted, but Steven would prove himself the stronger, loyal man.

“What do you intend for me to do?” Steven inquired.

A mischievous grin spread across Daniel’s handsome face. “Get rid of Overseer Franklin, and get ahold of the key. Or, get yourself a copy of the damn thing.”

For the Abbey, he thought again, but this time with concern, for how could he support McLarty’s request and win Daniel’s favor without tossing Hogarth under a train? It was true that Steven didn’t favor Hogarth, but to betray his own brother and show loyalty to Daniel would be nothing short of cruel. If he had Hogarth removed from his station, no doubt it would reflect poorly on Hogarth’s record. And to steal the key would go against the Strictures.

Ever observant, Daniel picked up on Steven’s growing apprehension. “Overseer Baker, listen to me carefully.” His impish grin gone, Daniel leaned as close as he could to the edge of the tub, but it dawned upon him that remaining in the tub, proactive as it was, might not be enough to persuade Steven to his side. To Steven’s horror (and unspoken indulgence), Daniel stood up. Water poured from him, spilling into the tub and floor as he left the water and into the heated washroom, his naked body on complete display for Steven to admire and fear. Lacking so much as a towel, Daniel approached Steven with the utmost certainty.

And what could Steven possibly do, but stare at his fantasy come alive? Daniel, naked and wet, and the cage emblazoned with the mark of the Abbey covering his member, facing him as though it was a matter of no importance. He hardly noticed when Daniel was right next to him, wet hand blocking access to the doorknob.

Daniel captured his attention with a fierce stare. Like his mother, and just as threatening, but also harnessing a masculine composure that caused Steven to second guess his fear. If anything, he found himself drawn to it.

Daniel closed in. “While I may not be my father, I am still rather powerful. Enough for your precious Abbey to want to keep me in this position.” He glanced, turning his head slightly to the direction of the window. “You saw what I did for you back then, and you now know what I am willing to provide to you if you listen to me. Not them. _Me_.”

He moved in further, until Steven could feel the man’s hot breath pierce through his mask, crashing against his shaking, green eyes.

“We’re not so different.” Daniel said in a hushed voice. “We can free one another. We can have a gay old time.” His eyes broke from Steven’s, then darted down, then back up again. That impish smile from before adorned his face again, teasing Steven. He had no chance to guess what started it when Daniel tore away, walking again to his tray to serve himself another glass of port. “I’ll let you think about that while I dress…”

Gobsmacked, Steven fell back on the door, covering his _immodesty_ and breathing heavily as Daniel sipped happily, relishing in the knowledge that Steven had no doubt made his mind. The steam in the room had long dissipated, and the gentle melody of boys singing hymns finished a while ago; but, although the music and wet heat vanished, and fresh air was seeping through, a prominent heat remained, burning bright.

* * *

Hogarth found Steven descending the stair shortly after. Not detecting the strain emitting from Steven, he gave not a moment for recovery, and demanded to know what occurred between him and Daniel Tennyson while he received his verbal reprimanding. Careful not to lie to his brother, Steven told Hogarth that Daniel would return downstairs in a moment, and in a far better mood. He made sure, of course, to avoid what he saw, though it didn’t seem to matter what he did say, as Hogarth continued to interrupt. Whatever Lady Tennyson had said to him had left Hogarth in an ill mood.

“He’ll answer whatever questions to have for him, I’m sure.” Steven concluded, then pushed himself aside as to embrace the coldness wafting through the rest of the manor.

And less than ten minutes later, Daniel returned to meet the two overseers. Though his dress was sloppy, he was, at the very least, dressed in proper clothing suitable for the time of day, and he approached Hogarth with a passivity that astonished both immensely. Hogarth was only too eager to pull Daniel aside for a private interview.

“Of course, I’ll need to check to see if the cage isn’t causing any issues,” Hogarth remarked as he and Daniel stood.

“That won’t be necessary.” Daniel clapped his hands together. “Overseer Baker came upon me, and has seen that things are quite well… other than my imprisonment, of course.”

“Has he?” Hogarth inquired, seemingly uncaring. “Well, it’s best that someone better qualified check to make sure you’re well. I’m sure you understand.” He stopped as he noticed Steven slowly following after them. “Overseer Baker…right, I think I can handle the rest on my own. We’re already behind as it is, and you have cleaning to do, if I recall?”

Hogarth was referring to Steven’s punishment,and it bothered the young man that Hogarth would talk so openly about it. Daniel didn’t react to the comment, not that Steven expected him to, but it didn’t make the remark any less unsuitable, given the circumstances. The embarrassment still remained. Were it another scenario, Steven would have been angered over being reminded of his punishment right in from of a civilian, but given today’s circumstances, was relieved to be excused. Anything to get away from Hogarth, and to be freed from Daniel’s influence. As best as he could without drawing any further attention, he excused himself and headed to the door.

Unfortunately, Hogarth trailed after him.

“Listen, Steven,” Hogarth said as a servant held the door open for Steven to pass through. “I apologize for all of that. Really. But…” He went quiet, thinking hard as to what to say. “Lady Tennyson threatened to have us removed from our position. While I am confident that the Abbey will back us–” Hogarth paused again, which did nothing less than discourage Steven. “Well, you can never be too careful. I don’t know what sort of magic you pulled in there, but I’m grateful. I just…I need you out of the way right now to reassert myself. I don’t want that brat thinking he can make of fool of me and get away with it, understand?”

It sounded innocent enough, or as innocent as Hogarth could manage without his pride spoiling it. The attitude alone made Steven feel less sorry for what he was considering doing to the man, and he feigned compliance and nodded his head, forgiving Hogarth for any issues his meddling might have caused.

After the door closed on him, Steven practically marched to the front gates, eagerly taking in fresh breaths of air as he tried to withhold a strange panic in him.

Was he really going to betray Hogarth, and potentially the Abbey? No, of course not…McLarty gave him permission…but did it extend to this?

He stopped short of the gates. Steven sorted through his mind, trying to arrange his thoughts and make sense of what he was feeling now, and what he had allowed to feel when he willingly trapped himself with Daniel, but it was impossible without the images of Daniel’s naked form splayed across his mind.

Just as he reached to open the gates, a desire to turn around and stare at the manor consumed him. He tried fighting the impulse, but it got the best of him, and when he turned, staring upwards, he could see the many windows with dark curtains masking the view inwards. But amongst them all, he could see one where the curtains were drawn, and he was positive that, this time, someone was staring back at him.


	5. Chapter 5

No one expected much from Steven Baker. A quiet, shy boy, he was the only son of a countryside baker and seamstress, and it was likely that he would grow up with barely enough literacy to write out his name for signing contracts and the like. It was this miserable prospect that pushed the boy into the Abbey, for its members had no issue sharing the secrets of the world with him. They taught him to read, and to write. They taught him about the matters of the Cosmos and, above all, to fear The Outsider and all he represented. When he was close to age, he voluntarily joined the Abbey. Lacking any skill in reading the stars, he was pushed into the harsh, merciless military ranks. He was handed a sword, worked till his muscles were numb with pain, but he was accepted and, most of all, of importance.

Steven accepted everything offered by the Abbey, even the corruption. He lived off the words spoken to him by his superiors, never once questioning the hypocrisy behind it, so long as it meant him climbing ranks and gaining some prestige. Though he was unidentifiable, a nameless soldier wearing a mask to civilians, Steven savored the power he held over them, simply because of what he was.

But no matter how much the Abbey handed to him, nothing could truly remove the quiet, insecure boy who feared his fascination for members of the same sex would one day have him tortured. It was this sort of insecurity that eventually ate away at all overseers, turning them bitter and cruel, and it was this insecurity that the Abbey secretly preyed upon… not that Steven was aware of such manipulation. Like any servant of the Abbey, Steven assumed his faults were a result of his own weakness. This, however, did not include his attack against Daniel Tennyson, an action that, after the events taken place earlier in the day, he regretted more than ever. 

* * *

His punishment was to help attend and clean the many kennels set on the property. It was a chore saved for lower rank overseers, usually those still green in military practices. Today, Steven was assigned to clean kennel four, belonging to his assigned hound. On most occasions, he’d visit the kennels to get a few playful minutes with his hound, feed her leftover rations saved just for her. This afternoon would hold no pleasantries; by the time Steven arrived, he saw her removed from her cage in preparation for a wash. The overseers in charge of the kennels would clean the hounds while Steven slaved away, shoveling stale hay and waste, and washing the floors before adding new bedding for the animals.

It was tiresome work. Steven thought he should be so lucky that he was only shoveling dog shit, and not forced to march in the rain, or be beaten by his own brothers, but the stench and exhausting repetition of cleaning each cage eventually wore his patience thin. Admittedly, the work was so plentiful that it aided in keeping his mind away from the strange occurrence that had only occurred just hours prior, between him and Daniel Tennyson.

It wasn’t until he overheard one of the overseers jokingly chastising him, and bringing up the dreaded name Tennyson, did the old feelings from before begin to stir. Oddly enough, it didn’t threaten Steven to hide away in the darkest corner, or cover himself from fear of shame. At worst, the memory brought a subtle, but impeccably queer smile to spread across his face. But even in doing so, it fueled him with enough energy to continue, and he used that image of Daniel, naked save for the fine copper cage cast around his member, to keep his own body going as he continued to cart stale hay and hose and scrub the cold floors. After three hours of hard, laborious work, Steven was left sore and body aching for a hot bath, and he stunk of sweat and waste, but he maintained the slightest of smiles wearily worn on his red, sweaty face.

* * *

“McLarty wants to have a word with you.”

Steven had only just grabbed a towel, ready to wash and perhaps even garner a few  _ personal _ minutes to himself, when he was called to the office of his superior. With little time to spare, Steven quickly made himself as presentable as he could, and hurried into the office of the veteran overseer.

“You’re late,” McLarty said without looking up from his work. He continued to scrawl on a ledger of some kind, paying little mind to Steven until he was content with whatever work he was attending to. By that point, Steven had already been standing at attention for some time. Finally, he rose from his work, and after darting his eyes up and down Steven’s less than perfect appearance, shed a sneer at him and added, “You look awful. I certainly hope you did not appear before Lord Tennyson in this dreadful state.”

“No, sir, I–”

“I’m not done,” McLarty badgered, pointing a sharp, gloved finger at the young man. “I’m going to need a field report by tomorrow morning. Give me all the details.”

Steven produced a quick nod.

“Allow me to stress once more: it is in  _ our _ best interest that you maintain a positive relationship with that sodomite,” McLarty said, one again allowing his eyes to linger on the work situated on his desk. “Whatever it takes to get him to squeal, so long as it doesn’t render you too undignified.” 

Steven reproduced the same nod before, only this time he had to restrain himself from tacking on a nervous smile. Fear of reprimanding still plagued his mind, but the fresh memory of Daniel’s proposal haunted him, and as frightening as McLarty was, Steven couldn’t help but take the man’s words as a delightful invitation. He knew it wasn’t possible, yet made little attempt to convince himself otherwise. Why, just the other night he was convinced Daniel was to play him like a fiddle. Now? Now Steven only looked forward to meeting him once more. Though he knew Daniel was dangerous, proposed an insane, ludicrous idea, Steven looked forward to their next meeting.

There was just the issue of the key.

“Sir, if I may?” Steven softly interrupted.

McLarty’s eyes darted up. “What is it?” he asked harshly. “Out with it.”

“I have a question about…about the case Overseer Franklin carries with him. Or, the one he usually carries with him?”

“What are you on about?” McLarty asked.

“The case he had…the one with the cages and the keys to them,” Steven carefully inquired. Should he be more precise? Would it risk anything if he did? No, surely McLarty would understand that he was merely curious to know the ins and outs of this already complicated matter. Steven continued: “He had it during the first meeting, but no longer has it in his possession. In it were the keys to the cage Tennyson now wears.” Steven saw the perplexed look on his superior. “Well, I thought–”

“Are you asking for the whereabouts of materials that are restricted to men of a specific rank and position?” McLarty said, eyes narrowing in Steven. “If you are, I assume there’s a damn good reason for it?” 

Steven panicked. A reason? The only thing that came to mind was Daniel’s offering, but Steven wouldn’t dare bring himself to say that to McLarty. It would mean the end of him.

He thought to lie, but that was perhaps even worse. McLarty was already eying him with same predatory look the wolfhounds did in preparation for an attack. Even at his age, McLarty was far too keen to outwit. Steven stifled, “No, sir, I….” His shoulders sank as he tried to find his place. “I was just curious, is all.”

McLarty frowned. “Careful asking questions, Steven,” he warned abrasively. “Just because I looked out for you once does not mean I’ll grant you any special privileges. Perhaps once you’ve proven some worth…as of now, you’re nothing to show, other than your lack of self-control.”

Steven’s shoulder sank as the words hit him. “I’m sorry, sir.”

McLarty snorted. “Don’t apologize. You can’t help yourself.” He dragged a thumb and finger across the narrow bridge of his nose. “That reminds me; did you clean the kennels?”

“Yes, sir,” Steven answered. 

“Very well. I’ll need you to check into the library later, after dinner. See if anyone could use you to reshelf some files, or sweep the floors.” His hand rested on his mouth for a few seconds, pondering over the extent of Steven’s punishment. Steven was sure that if it weren’t for McLarty needing him in one piece, he’s be told to run laps at night, or do routines until his muscles were numb. “I think that’s all for now,” McLarty said, “unless you’ve anything worth telling me now?”

Steven contemplated. He could mention Hogarth’s ineptitude, Daniel’s unwillingness to obey him, and him being reprimanded by Lady Tennyson. He desperately wanted to complain of how Hogarth spoke ill of him in front of Daniel, and how embarrassing it was to have to experience such a remark by a man he barely knew, but Steven doubted it was anything his superior cared to hear. No, McLarty wanted results. He wanted to know Daniel trusted him, or at least…

“Lord Tennyson’s son prefers me to Hogarth,” Steven said plainly. He saw McLarty react poorly, and then hastily added, “He refused to work with us. The young man. When we discovered he abandoned us, Lady Tennyson pulled Overseer Franklin aside for a talk.”

“Talk?” McLarty inquired.

“A verbal reprimanding,” Steven corrected himself. Just then, he was sure he saw the faintest glimmer of interest in McLarty’s eyes. Confident, Steven continued, “I went upstairs to have a word with the young man. After a long talk, I managed to get him to come downstairs. I left after that, but only because Overseer Franklin insisted I not get in the way of his patient.”

“Interesting,” McLarty commented. It was not the reaction Steven hoped for. Rather than smile, McLarty was silent and unmoving, his face cold and void of any hints to his thought. “Very interesting…you wouldn’t happen to remember the conversation you shared with the young man, would you?”

“What?” Steven asked, unprepared.

“What moved that brat into leaving…his room?” McLarty asked. “Wherever he was holed up?”

Steven swallowed thickly. He couldn’t possibly answer that. McLarty did give him permission to trick Daniel…but what on earth would he think if he learned that his underling spent an afternoon in the bathroom with a naked noble? Worse, that the very same nobleman wanted him to steal the keys to free him, in favor of sex or other worldly pleasures?

“I did as you said,” Steven answered. “I appealed to his nature. I knocked on the door. He told me Overseer Franklin could fuck off….and I agreed with him wholeheartedly.”

McLarty completely broke away from his work, focusing all his attention on Steven.

Heart racing, Steven continued, “while the young lord and I have little in common, one thing we could agree on is Overseer Franklin’s ineffectiveness. We spent several minutes discussing our strong dislike towards my brother. We quite enjoyed it, really.”

It wasn’t the truth, but it certainly wasn’t a  _ lie  _ either. He was still adhering to the Strictures. At least, for now he was. And McLarty could not possibly condemn him for speaking ill of another Overseer that already despised him and this entire situation.

“I’m sorry for speaking poorly about one of our own,” Steven said, feigning some guilt. “The two of us do not get along well. I suspect he might be jealous that I influence Tennyson to some degree. I wish it were not so, sir. I truly do.”

_ That  _ was a lie.

McLarty bowed his head. “It can’t be helped, Baker. I commend your ability to gain the boy’s trust, but you’ve a job to do, and it will require teamwork. That means you’ll need to watch your tongue.” He

gestured a hand at the door. “Get out and do your chores! I expect that report first thing tomorrow morning.”

Steven was too relieved to be given permission to leave. He bowed and happily made his way to the door, ready to take on whatever extra duties he had awaiting him. There were still the keys he needed to consider, but that could wait. He avoided another trap, and was back on track. He’d figure out the location at another time, or, perhaps, find a way to earn Hogarth’s trust.

“Oh, and Baker…”

Steven stopped, turning his head to meet with his superior. “Sir?”

McLarty was at his desk, scribbling something madly. With a snap, his hand arose, and in it was a slip of some kind. Without looking up, he said, “Within the Astrological Branch is a wing associated with the mental and physical rehabilitation of the common citizen: Room 230, cabinet A through C . Restricted to men of that branch who specialize in that department. However, there are tours given to those who are currently being trained, or, in some cases, given special permission to visit and learn those arts. The men there are incredibly busy and impatient…so visits will be brief amongst brothers who are not affiliated with the work.”

Steven stared in awe at the piece of paper held in McLarty’s hand. If what McLarty just said what Steven thought he said, then there was a chance for him to take the keys.

He walked back to the desk, his eyes on the slip. He reached for it, and just as he took it, McLarty’s eyes jumped on him. “Remember you are a guest in that wing. A representative of the Military Branch.”

Steven understood completely. “Yes, sir,” he said, grasping the slip and placing it delicately in a pocket.

“That will be all,” McLarty said. “Get out of my sight, and back to work. Restless hands are the Outsider’s plaything…”

Steven nodded in agreement before slipping out of the office. He hurried back to the barracks, his pace just short or rising any suspicion. Steven could barely help himself when he reached his bed, letting the door behind slam as he jumped on top of the worn mattress, his shaking hands already holding the slip.

Steven looked it over once. Twice. It was, in every sense of the word, a simple permission slip. There was no set date, just the brief note that he’d been given permission to tour the facility. Whether McLarty planned that out, or didn’t care, was something Steven didn’t dwell too much on. Instead, he remained fixated on the slip.

What potential this little piece of paper contained… he could just as easily slip in and nab the key and bestow it to Daniel, earning the right… _ to do what _ ?

Upset by the thought, Steven rooted through his drawer, pulled a sock from it, and stowed the slip inside. His face burned red with embarrassment towards himself. He wouldn’t think to betray McLarty’s trust, not after earning the privilege so quickly. No, this was something else. This was to get back at Hogarth, and make a fool of him…this was to get back at Daniel.

A sly smirk began to form at the ends of Steven’s mouth. How foolish of him to even consider giving the key to Daniel. Steven hadn’t realized he now possessed the trump hand in this peculiar game. Daniel trusted him enough to forgo his deepest secrets, and was willing to offer Steven a tempting prize. Admittedly, Steven almost lost himself to this prize. Even now, he could feel the slightest ache growing within his britches. He bit his thumb, trying to convince himself that withholding the visit to the department was in  _ his _ best interest. Even if it meant dealing with Hogarth a bit longer.

Steven huffed, satisfied with his new plan. Barely a plan to begin with, but he was sure of it nonetheless.

Alone in his room, and with a prominent ache beginning to burn into his abdomen, Steven turned on his side. By now the image of Dan, naked save for the cage, was causing him a great deal of discomfort. Steven grimaced, letting a hand go dangerously close to the buttons of his breeches before forcing them away. It was getting late, and Steven knew it would only be a matter of time before the room would fill with others. He couldn’t possibly think to relieve himself now. But when Steven drew his eyes downward, he could see his member pressed against the rough material. He wanted to groan and complain. Such a terrible predicament to be in! All of this was Daniel’s fault. The blasphemous pervert. But the cursing and thoughts only continued to make his cock yearn for touch, and with the sun slowly making its way downward, Steven could only bring himself to free it and painfully bring it to an end.

Thumb and finger pressed against the head, Steven idly lay in his bed, drawing as little suspicion as he could despite the room being empty, and squeezed the member, letting the constriction and pain soften and shrink it. He winced at his own action, hissing privately as he killed his erection. It was frustrating, and even after he was done he could feel the yearning remain, the flame tickling deep within his gut. If there was any silver lining to this, it was knowing that Daniel was in the same predicament, but far worse. Steven would have his release…whether it be literal, or figurative. Yes, there was some pleasure to be had without the physical realm involved.

_ What now, Outsider? _ Steven pondered as he tucked his now softened penis back into its confines. Still smiling, he fathomed Daniel in that very same dilemma, but incapable of even being address the quandary. For that cage didn’t even give him a chance to relieve himself. He was trapped, so very trapped. At least Steven had some form a freedom, and now he had something else up his sleeve.

Satisfied with himself, Steven rolled over and rested on his back. He stared at the railings from the cot above, formulating his plan. Would he tell Daniel of the slip now, or later? Or would he tease the possibility of there being no additional key until Daniel was at his wit’s end? Perhaps he would mention the slip, of a future meeting with the department, but wait until Daniel’s attitude was more to his liking…or maybe have Daniel continue to work against Hogarth? Ah, that would be entertaining for sure!

Steven snickered lightly, just barely containing his delight, when the door swung open. Three of his brothers walked in; one of whom caught Steven’s musing and reacted with impiety. “Steven, if you’ve got time to lie about, you got time to work! Get off your arse and help clear out the hall!”


End file.
